


What She Never Knew

by SisterWine



Category: Cold Case
Genre: 1978, 1995, 1999, F/M, Gen, Love from afar, Puppy Love, Regrets are neverending, Searching, Slow Burn, The Blue Bear, The Past Never Stays Buried, The feeling of not knowing, The power of apologies, You're safe in the light, making amends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-05 21:16:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20279953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SisterWine/pseuds/SisterWine
Summary: A woman comes to Philadelphia to find a lost houseboy and ends up talking all night to Scotty.DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Cold Case or any of its characters. My Characters are The Canne family, Monica and Stacy and Travis DiNuccio. Please do not sue.





	1. Chapter 1

2009, Philadelphia, PA

The woman sat down at a table next to the window, in a small coffee shoppe. The sun bore down through the window, announcing midday. She sighed and wrapped her hands around her cup of ice coffee, exhausted from the long walk around town in the warm but cool Spring day. She squinted as she turned to look out the window, finding the sun too bright and making her feel as if she were sitting in a spotlight. Moving a stray strand of blonde bangs from her forehead and looking past her own reflection to search the crowd of passers by, she was beginning to feel disheartened by the lack of prospects to find who she was looking for.

Sipping her cool drink whilst looking out the window, she nervously bit at the end of the straw and searched each passing face of every dark-haired, male in his thirties. A sinking feeling told her she knew she wouldn't find him but she had been everywhere else she could think of, now it was time to try the places she hadn't thought of. A profile of a young man with black hair caught her eye and she gasped as he turned his head, slightly but then turned the opposite direction and hurried across the busy street, running away from her. She sat back, dejected. 

Patrons filtered in, purchased their drinks and snacks and then chose to sit and dine or take it to go. The woman was once again on the casual hunt for her mysterious, dark-haired memory she had spent the better part of four years trying to track down, with no luck. The private investigator she had hired had tracked him to the northeast corner of the city but then mysteriously came up empty on the target's exact location.

She sat two tables down from the glass door of the shoppe and eyed both sides as the shoppe was on the southwest corner of the block. Another heavy sigh as she took a moment to look down at her melted ice coffee, which was now rapidly turning into slush, and stirred it with the long, green straw. When she looked up again, she sat up and stared at the young man with dark hair and thin build, wearing a long tan raincoat, rounding the corner and walking away from her. "Travis." Her voice kept low as not to alarm any of the other patrons. The metal chair made a low groan as she stood up, letting the metal feet drag on the brown tile floor. It was him. It had to be. Quickly, she exited the shoppe and ran after the man who had already disappeared around the corner and was now a few hundred feet from her.

Following him through the midday crowd, she never lost sight of the tan raincoat and the short black hair that was just long enough to brush against the collar of the coat. She gasped anxiously but kept pace with her target, who walked briskly towards his destination. "Trav- Travis!" She called when he slowed down to let a taxi pass, before crossing the street. When he finally came to a stop, in front of a tall, non-descript building and opened the heavy tinted glass door, her heart sank as he disappeared into the lobby. She stopped at the curb and glanced up at the name of the building, written in large, brass letters across the top of the door; Philadelphia Police Department. Fearing she had been found out and that he, in turn, feared her stalking him, she turned and hurried across the street and hailed a taxi back to her hotel.

She sat down at the small table and flipped through a sketchbook of drawings she had kept with her. Sketches he had drawn, of her, marking her most important days. Sketches he had done from memory and sly glances, as there had been rules about staring at her, or any of the Canne children, in their youth. He had drawn them with expert precision. The last page of the book had also been of her but it had been different than all the others. The last page he had drawn of her smiling face and soft curls. She sighed and swallowed as she stared down at her penciled likeness.

~~~~~

Los Angeles, California 1978

The brown two-door sedan pulled into the curved driveway and stopped just short of the closed garage. The driver put it into park and shut off the engine before unfastening her seatbelt and turning to look at the little boy in the backseat. The woman smiled and added cheerfully, "we're here, Travis. Time to meet your new family." The woman, a social worker in her early 40s, opened her door and then walked around to the passenger door to open it and help the five-year-old out of the car, grabbing his small backpack of clothes, from the front seat. She closed the car door and then turned to reach for his hand before they walked up to the front door of, what looked to the small boy, as a large mansion that spread infinitely to the left and right.

An upscale Los Angeles neighbourhood with rows of elegant houses for the wealthy citizens, with perfect grass yards that spread for miles and only separated by brilliant white fences or expertly crafted stone walls. Curved driveways, straight driveways or wide, rounded drives and freshly trimmed and shaped trees were the only details to set the neighbourhood apart.

"Best behaviour, Travis, okay?" The woman whispered as she rang the bell and waited for the door to open. Large sunglasses with thin gold rims and feathered sandy brown hair combined with an overuse of makeup, the woman looked as though she had just finished being an extra on a female cop show.

The little boy stood still and stared at the door. With one hand holding onto her's and the other holding his blue teddy bear, he wasn't sure what was going on but the interpreter had explained that he couldn't go back to his mother and that this family was named in his mother's will, to take care of him. His clothes and shoes were brand new and his black hair had been brushed neatly with his bangs swept to the side. A lot had happened in the long year he had spent in foster care and the court system, after his mother died. An accidental overdose had been listed as the official cause of death, after an evening of partying at a friend's house. Travis DiNuccio, although born in the US, spoke only bits of English as his main language was Italian. After his mother died and he was removed from the friend of his mother's house, he silently struggled to understand what was happening to him. He shrugged and looked from the door to the woman beside him, moments before the door opened and woman in a light gray maid's outfit answered the door and showed them in.

The Canne family had gathered in the large family room, to the left of the door, off the main hall, and waited for the woman and little boy to round the corner. The wife was the first to stand and rush over to greet the guests. "Mrs. Foley, we've been waiting for you. And this must be Travis. Hello, darling. Do you remember me?" She bent down to shake his hand and offer a big smile for the unsure child. "Your mommy and I were good friends, a couple years ago. We had a picnic and went to the zoo. Do you remember that?"

Travis' eyes lit up and he nodded and gave a reluctant smile. 

Evelyn Canne had been a university classmate of Veronica DiNuccio and as such, had gotten to know Veronica's twin boys; Marco and Travis, very well. "Come on in and have a seat. This is my husband, Edward and our three children, Rachel, the oldest, Bryan and Jennifer," she pointed each out as she offered the elegant champagne-coloured sofa to the guests, which sat across from the rest of the family, "who is about your age, Travis." Evelyn lightly tapped his nose and smiled, again, at the little boy.

Travis did his best to smile at the four other people who stared back at him with mild warmth. His eyes moved over each of the family members, starting with the very stern face of Mr. Canne before moving to Rachel, the 10-year-old, and then Bryan, the eight-year-old fair-haired boy and finally to the six-year-old, Jennifer. He sat between the two women and clutched his fuzzy blue teddy bear, whom he had simply named, Blu.

The afternoon wore on and as Mrs. Foley turned to leave, she hugged Travis and told him that he was in good hands and that she would be back at the tend of the week to check on him. Running her newly manicured false nails through his black hair and whispering in his ear to "be good", she told the family goodbye and walked out of the house and over to her car. As she pulled out of the driveway, she glanced over at the open door and saw the little boy still standing there, silently pleading with her to take him with.

~~~~~

Later in the evening, the woman took to the streets again, this time searching for his last known address, via taxi. The car stopped at the entrance of a tall, well-kept apartment building and the driver let know this was the address she had given him. Quickly shoving the old, faded photograph of him and his mother back into her small, red purse, she told him to wait whilst she went upstairs. She opened the door and took a breath before hastily walking into the lobby and up to the lift. She pushed the button and waited for the doors to open before stepping in and pressing the fourth floor button. Her stomach had tangled itself into a knot as the floors dinged one by one and then finally the car stopped on the destined floor.

She stepped off and stood there a moment, letting the silence of the corridor calm her. After another ragged breath, the woman turned and walked casually down the corridor to the right of the lift. "Forty-two oh nine, forty-two eleven, forty-two thirteen, forty-two fifteen." She quietly said the numbers on the door as she past them, reading only the left side of the corridor. She blinked and swallowed and gathered up all of her courage before knocking on the door she prayed he was behind. A minute passed and nothing, no sign of life. Her heart sank as she turned to leave. 

A chain grazed the door and a deadbolt unlatched before the door cracked open and a young man peered out. "Can I help you?" He asked, confused.

The woman turned back, her breath caught as she heard him speak. "Travis?"

The door opened wider, revealing the young man from earlier. "No, sorry. My name's Scotty. Are you looking for Travis?"

Her heart sank even more with an audible sigh. Getting a good look at the young man, she could tell the similarities, that had been present in the afternoon sun, had vanished and she now realised she had been chasing a ghost around another big city. She shook her head and turned again to leave. "Nevermind. Sorry I bothered you."

Scotty opened the door wider and stepped out into the corridor. "Wait. If you need help, I'll listen? Who are you looking for?" When she stopped but didn't turn around, he elaborated on who he was. "I can help. I'm Detective Scott Valens on the Philadelphia Police. Wait here and I'll show you my badge." He hurried back into his flat and grabbed his badge that sat on the countre, along with his billfold. He had already placed his weapon into his small gun safe, in the bedroom, after he came home and removed his shoes. He returned a minute later and cautiously approached her, holding out his badge for her to see. "Here. My badge."

The woman turned around and eyed the shield, mounted on a black padding with clip. Nervously, she bit her lip before telling him her name. "Jennifer Canne. I'm looking for... a friend... of mine. I was told he lived here, in that unit." She pointed to his open door. "But, I can see that I had the wrong information. Sorry to have bothered you, Detective Valens."

Scotty shook his head. "Sorry. I've been here just over a year. Would you like to come inside? We could talk about your friend and maybe I could help you find him...?" He noted the tears that streamed down her cheeks and a tremble in her lips that had wanted to talk to someone but didn't want to be a burden, or worse, to a person she didn't know.

Jennifer shook her head. "My taxi is waiting. I have to go." She turned and took a step but paused as he called to her again.

"Wait. I tell you what, let me put on my shoes and grab a pen and pad and I know an all-night diner where we can talk. Okay?" Scotty glanced down at his black socked feet and inched back to his door, from standing in the middle of the corridor. Quickly, he slipped on his running shoes that had been placed just inside, next to the door, and a blank legal pad with pen that sat under his keys and closed the door behind him on his way out. 

Jennifer walked down the corridor with him. "You don't have to do this."

Scotty cleared his throat and casually looked over at her at they stopped at the lift doors. "It's my job to help find people. Besides, you look like you could really use a friend, right now."

Continued.


	2. Chapter 2

Flip's Early Diner

They sat across from each other in a cornerbooth and gave their orders for coffee and meals to the waitress, before he opened up his pad and started writing what he knew so far. The low lighting was a yellowish and dim but bright enough for him to see what he was writing. "Alright, so... his name is Travis, right? Travis what?" Scotty asked as he wrote the name in all capital letters and paused at the last name.

"DiNuccio." She spelled it for him and watched his pen move with every formation of the letters. "He's about my age- uh, midthirties- with black hair and brown eyes. He was sent to live with my family when he was five. We grew up in Los Angeles, together. I haven't seen him in 10 years." Jennifer stared at the tip of the pen but looked up to meet his eyes as he stopped writing.

Scotty looked puzzled. "Los Angeles? So, what makes you think he's here, in Philly?" Seeing the waitress approach with the two cups of coffee, he lifted the pad off of the table and held it close to him, to keep the information private. 

Jennifer thanked the waitress for the coffee and reached for the individual cups of hazelnut creamers the waitress had left in a little bowl, along with the cups of coffee. She waited until the older woman walked away before answering him. "Four years ago, I paid for a private detective to find him. Two years ago, he claimed he 'ran out of leads.' So, I started looking, myself." Worry began to show on her face as she stirred her coffee and cream. Taking a ragged breath, she turned to look out the window at the city's nightlife.

Nodding and examining her profile, Scotty looked down at what he had written. "Okay, let's back up. You said he came to live with you. Do you know what happened? Why he wasn't with his family?" He looked back up at her and met her eyes as she turned to look at him. Replacing the pad to the table, he sat ready to write, again.

Jennifer shook her head. "I don't really know much about him. I really didn't care, growing up. But, I do know that his mom and twin brother both died. His brother died after falling from a playground slide, at two. His mom O.D.'d. Or, so everyone said. I don't know about his dad. My mom said he wasn't a very nice guy." She paused for a moment to watch him write down what she was telling him. "He came to live with us, a year after his mom died. My mom knew his mom, from UCLA. He didn't speak English, when he first came to live with us but, he was born in California. I know he could understand a little English and repeat some words but he had a horrible time trying to say sentences. In all honesty, we weren't a very good family to him. I don't know why he'd want to see me, after all I've put him through. Maybe, it's best I don't find him?"

"What makes you say that?" Scotty stopped writing and sat back, reaching for his coffee. He sipped the hot, black liquid and listened to her, noting her shifting and unease at the question.

Jennifer bowed her head and stared at her purse in her lap. 

The waitress returned with two plates in her hands and announced herself as she placed the plates down, in front of the correct diners. When she straightened, she asked if there was anything else she could get them. Getting a "no" in response, she smiled and turned to check on her other patrons.

Jennifer was silent a long moment. "We treated him like a rag doll. He was just there for us to use and laugh at. But, after everything, he never said a word against us." She looked up at his writing and sighed. Her eyes fell to her plate, in front of her and she stared at the burger that waited patiently to be bit into.

Pausing in his writing again, Scotty examined her expression, again. "What was the moment that you finally did notice him? What made you want to stop being mean to him and see him as a person?" He searched her face for any other emotion as she thought back to when she changed her mind about their houseboy.

She started to shake her head but stopped as she recalled several small memories of him. Jennifer sighed again and returned to her purse in her lap, opening it and removing two photos and placing them on the table for Scotty to see. "This one" pointing to an older photo of a young boy and his mother, "is Travis and his mom, before he came to live with us." She then pointed to the second one, a newer photo of him but still old. "And this one, was at my 21st birthday party. My best friends, Monica and Stacy, and that's him in the background." Jennifer pointed to the young man, to the far right in the photo, not smiling but looking rather overwhelmed with the party guests. "That's the only photo I have of him as an adult. The other one, he left it behind."

~~~~~

20, April 1995

The house rang with loud music and excitement from partying university kids. The Cannes had gone away on holiday, leaving Jennifer to celebrate her 21st birthday at home, with a few friends. A party full of twenty-somethings ran wild throughout the house, kegs, bottles, cans and red cups littered the tables and every other flat surface on the downstairs whilst the outside was being covered with toiletpaper and litter. Lovers snuggled and cooed drunkenly as they tucked themselves into any spare corner they could find to make out. 

The music blared from a boombox that one of the guests had brought with them, located in the den, where the lights had been dimmed considerably and the fire in the fireplace roared, setting romance for the group that stayed to the one room. 

Jennifer had started the partying early and was more than high and sloshed by the time the majority of the partiers had come through the door. She and her two friends wandered throughout the house, laughing and joking with other guests and making sure drinks were well-filled and platters of food were plentiful. She turned and stopped in front of the fireplace and held up a Polaroid camera and exclaimed "Smile!" to her two best friends, Monica and Stacy. 

Monica threw her arm around Stacy and mugged for the photo while Stacy stuck her tongue out and gave Monica bunny ears as a loud crash came from the other side of the room. A flash startled them and Stacy demanded another one taken.

Travis sighed as he watched Mr. Canne's 300-year-old giant vase crash to the floor and the two lovers that had bumped against it, laugh and run out of the room in a drunken state. He looked over at Jennifer after the first flash caught his eye and his tired look then became immortalised in a photo. After the second flash, he turned back and made his way over to clean up the broken vase. Kneeling down and picking up the big pieces and placing them in the bottom of the vase, that sat on a low platform base, he heard Jennifer screech his name from the other side of the room. Tossing a glance over his left shoulder, he found her standing in front of the long row of tables that were placed against the wall, in front of the windows, holding an empty drink tray.

"Hey houseboy! Thirsty people, over here!" Jennifer stared at him with annoyance. She held up the empty tray for him to see and snapped her fingers as if she were calling a waiter.

Placing the handful of broken vase into the base and standing up, he made his way back over to retrieve the tray from her, careful not to stare at her, and flinched as she shoved the tray at him. As Travis stopped in front of her, his eyes quickly shifted up and back down to her navel. He froze as she screeched at him.

Jennifer let go of the tray as he took it from her and gave him a disgusted look. "Did you just stare at my breast?? Oh my god! Someone call the police, this creep just stared at my breasts!" Her tone carried over the loud music, catching the attention of a few of the partiers close by. "Or, is that how you like it?" She shifted her weight to her left foot and ran a finger along the seam of her white button down shirt as she stepped closer to him.

Shaking his head and trying to look anywhere but where she and her friends were, Travis swallowed nervously as he heard several people in the room laugh and gasp playfully at the scene. He froze again as she stepped closer still and placed a hand on the front of his jeans. Pressing herself against him, he felt her unzip his jeans and then shoved him backward, to sprawl flat on the floor before laughing at him and announcing to everyone at the party that he was excited at the display.

"What a loser!" As Jennifer turned to walk away, she tripped over her own neon pink high-heeled shoe and fell to the floor, scraping her head on the padded arm of the sofa that faced the fireplace. 

When she didn't get up, Monica gasped and called her name, bending down to see if her friend was alright.

Travis scurried to Jennifer's side and gingerly turned her over, checking for any injury she might have sustained in her fall. "Miss Jennifer? Not dead, not dead, not dead, please, not dead." His breath caught as he felt for her pulse at her jugular. With his back to the doorway, he heard a drunk girl call out.

"Is she dead?" The party-goer, who was barely 20, announced that the host was dead and grabbed her boyfriend, whom she had been in the coat closet with and ran for the door. Several people followed as a terrified Travis tried to remain calm and explain that he hadn't killed her and to stay and enjoy the party.

Travis scooped Jennifer up into his arms and carried her out of the den and up the stairs, Monica and Stacy following close behind him. At the top of the stairs, he paused and turned to walk to the second door on the right and stop at the closed door. When Monica opened the door, he remained standing in the doorway, not sure if he was allowed to go inside and if he did, what would Monica and Stacy tell Jennifer, when she woke up.

"Go on. What are you waiting for?" Stacy, who stood to Travis's right, asked.

Travis swallowed. "I'm not allowed inside."

Monica, who held the small camcorder, pushed stop and lowered it. She stood to his left and raised an eyebrow at his terrified expression. "Go on. It's not like you're gonna sit down and have tea. Besides, we're right here. All you're doing is putting her on her bed."

Stacy smiled and slapped his back, trying to nudge him inside. "Yea, we won't tell." She saw the uncertainty in his expression as he shivered and took a step in before making his way over to the nearest side of bed and carefully laid their friend down before making his exit.

Hurrying down the stairs and finding the lower level void of any university student, Travis quickly busied himself gathering up the trays, plates and silverware and utensils to be washed and made his way to the kitchen. Dumping the items into the sink, he took a moment to make some coffee for the long night ahead and went back to his chore of washing the dishes. As he turned to place the dishes into the dishwasher, to his right, he caught the two girls coming into the kitchen and sitting down at the island countre. Travis straightened from putting the silverware into the holder and pointed to the coffeemaker that had just finished making a full pot.

Both girls nodded and asked for the cream and sugar.

Travis poured them each a cup and placed them in front of the girls before getting another mug from the cabinet and pouring his own coffee. Once the dishes had been gathered and washed, he cleaned the countres and sink before pulling out a few large black rubbish sacks from the floor of the cleaning closet, in the laundry room, and heading out into the rest of the house to gather plastics left behind by the partiers. He hadn't expected for the only other sobre people at the party to offer to help so he forced himself not to show his shock as Monica and Stacy both accepted the extra rubbish sacks and helped clean up.

~~~~~~

It was later in the afternoon when Jennifer rolled over to change positions and ended up smacking something that was in bed with her. She lie on her back and quickly opened her eyes and sat up to see who was with her and how she managed to get into her own bed. The figure to her right was covered by the lavender comforter and she poked it, catching a flinching movement from the lump underneath. "Hey." Jennifer croaked, groggily.

Stacy slept on her right side and moved the covers as she rolled onto her back and opened one eye to see Jennifer staring at her. "Hey beautiful." She rubbed a hand over her face and sat up. "Good morning." She sighed and turned to dump her pillow over the side of the bed to land on Monica, who made a pallet on the floor to sleep on. "Monnie, hey, Monnie... look who's awake." Stacy had been Jennifer's friend from fourth grade was more of a friend to Monica as Jennifer was known to be a spoilt brat at times.

"How did I get in my room?" Jennifer asked as she looked around her room for an unknown answer.

Having heard another voice, Monica pushed herself to sit up and look over the top of the bed. "He carried you, Travis did." Raising herself to her knees and then crawling up onto the bed to sit across from Stacy, Monica answered as she curled her bare legs underneath her and shivered from the cool air of the room. Monica had known Jennifer since second grade and was the often the voice of reason between the two, mostly knew how Jennifer would react and tried to quell any hysterics before they'd start.

Jennifer's eyes widened. "He was in my room?"

Stacy hummed. "Relax, he wasn't in here that long. In fact, we had to push him in here. He laid you down and then split faster than he came in." She yawned and glanced over at Jennifer.

"Yea, ya know, I've never understood why you're so mean to him. He's a nice guy, and totally funny." Monica rubbed her eyes and cleared her throat.

Stacy closed her eyes and licked her lips, remembering the delicious meals he had made for them. "And such a good cook. He made an omelet, this morning, that was to die for. Unh, and his Rubens.... Heaven." She had praised him for his cooking and giggled as he wasn't sure how to take the compliments.

Jennifer smiled, annoyed. "Great. Glad you liked them. Where is he?"

Monica yawned. "We sent him to bed a couple of hours ago."

"You did what?!" Jennifer's jaw dropped. She turned and shoved the covers off of her and started to climb out of bed before being pulled back by Stacy.

"Whoa whoa whoa. Jen, he was pretty beat. The poor thing was falling asleep in his Cheerios, I don't know how he made it to lunch. We shoved him to bed around one, then we slunk our way up here, to do the same." Monica shifted, ready to crawl after her friend and stop her from disturbing Travis' sleep. The digital clock on the nightstand next to Stacy's side of the bed read 4:30 and she knew it was not enough time to recuperate from two whole days and nights of chasing around three young women, cleaning up after them.

Stacy reached out and grabbed Jennifer's arm. "Let him sleep. He really needs it after following us around all week."

Monica smiled and nodded. "Yea, we'll order a pizza or something."

"Hello? There was a party here, last night. He has to clean up. My parents get home tomorrow." Jennifer was unamused by their pleas.

Monica shifted again and scoot closer to Jennifer, who now stood next to the bed. "He did clean up. It took all night."

Stacy nodded. "Yea, we helped." She hadn't let go of Jennifer's arm until she sat back down. "You know, you really should try to be more nice to him. He's really a sweetheart."

"Right. After he tried to rape me, last night? No thanks." Jennifer scoffed.

Sighing and turning to crawl off the end of the bed and grab her camcorder that sat charging on the antique dresser, next to the door, Monica returned with it and turned it on to replay the events that lead up to Jennifer passing out. "Um, more like you attacked him. Practically molested him, in front of everyone, and then shoved him to the floor." She rewound the tape and pressed PLAY before turning the screen around for Jennifer to see. While Jennifer's eyes were glued to the screen, she and Stacy both gave their friend an unamused look.

Having watched the video with mild interest, Jennifer was ready to wretch as the camera caught a closeup of Travis' reaction to being knocked to the floor and the terror in his expression as he feared her dead, along with the other party-goers. Taking a deep breath and handing the camcorder back to Monica, Jennifer was silent for a long while.

~~~~~~~~~

Scotty had taken a bite out of his Philly cheesesteak and chewed slowly, in a long moment of silence. He stared at her and remained silent as she recalled the night of the party with mostly flawless detail. He swallowed and replaced his sandwich to his plate before he finally spoke. "Your friends sound like they really cared about him. Do you still talk to them?"

Nodding but not looking up from her plate of untouched food, Jennifer gave a small smile. "Yea, they did." She took a breath before answering his second question. "Monnie is a Legal Assistant, in Dayton and Stacy is a RN in Memphis. Both have wonderful families and at least two beautiful kids."

"So, because of that incident, you haven't moved on? No family or children?"

Jennifer sighed and finally looked up to stare out the window at the night traffic. "Never married, no. I do have a little boy. He is sweet and perfect. He's staying with my sister, right now."

Scotty cleared his throat and sat back. "So, tell me a little more about you. How have you changed since that day, you last saw him? Or, the day after the party?"

Shrugging, Jennifer shifted on her bench. "After I graduated, I didn't really have a job. I helped my dad with his work, some times. I did some traveling, here and there. Then, I became a photographer for a landscaping magazine. It's a good job. I get to travel and take gorgeous photos of sceneries. I've always liked taking photos. Always had a camera in my hand." Jennifer bit her lip as the waitress walked up to the table and asked how they were doing.

Scotty smiled and answered that they were fine and after catching a return smile before the waitress walked away, he looked back at Jennifer and waited patiently. "What else can you tell me about yourself? What about your relationships with your family, after this incident? Do they share your feelings toward him?"

Jennifer shook her head. "My dad,... he never liked Travis. Daddy said he looked at Travis and saw his dad. I guess the guy was a real loser and that's what he thought about Travis; a 'shouldn't-have-happened' type of thing, ya know? My mom, after he left, took his stuff and put it into a small 5x5. He really didn't have even that much. My brother Bryan is at Harvard and could care less about him. Glad he's gone, I guess. But, my sister.... Before Travis left, she said that he would visit the free clinic she worked at. She couldn't say anything about him but, when he left, I found pill bottles for a heart condition and doctor notes to him about how much it would cost to fix a valve in his heart. He was saving up to do so. I wonder if he ever did it." She took a deep breath and released it slowly. "My mom and Becky, our maid, really loved him. Now that he's gone, I find myself thinking back to how terrible I was to him and wishing I got to know the little boy who smiled so brightly, rather than the young man who was terrified of living with monsters. He hated the dark. Did I tell you?" She glanced up at him long enough to see him shake his head, and then looked away. "He did. My sister, Rachel, said that she came home one night, from a date. It was raining and storming and she found him huddled under a table, next to the stairs, where we kept the phone. She found one of my brother's old nightlights and gave it to him. He couldn't sleep without it. It was a... one of those cartoon superheroes.... you know? Of course, like an arrogant idiot.... made fun of him for that, too."

Scotty had taken another bite of his sandwich and chewed and swallowed, slowly. "Is there anything you didn't make fun of him for?"

Thinking for a minute, Jennifer recalled the sketchpad she kept with her. "His art. Well, it's stupid but I never thought he would be an artist. I mean, all of these side-glances or watching me from afar, I thought he was a creep, ya know? But, he..." she bit her lip in thought, "he could have drawn a troll with my name on it or drawn a scenario of how he felt about me and my family but,.... he didn't. He drew me. He had every detail, every curve and it was so beautiful. He drew it all from memory and never took his anger out in his work." For the first time, she smiled as she thought about the sketchbook full of penciled drawings of her and her moments of happiness and sadness and accomplishment.

Smiling also and reaching over to nudge her plate a little closer to her, Scotty offered that they pause on the happy note and eat their food before it became too cold. Jennifer agreed and picked up her hamburger for a bite.

Continued.


	3. Chapter 3

Jennifer rolled over onto her left side, her right arm in front of her, her hand wrapped around the blue fuzz of the bear's tummy. Her thumb stroked it's side as she opened her eyes and stared at the small, simple profile of the toy. She stared at it's head that rest on her pillow, beside her's. Pulling it close to her face, she could still smell his scent as the fur tickled her nose. She inhaled again and closed her eyes, trying to imagine his touch again. It was already mid-morning and she knew she had to get up but couldn't seem to find the energy.

She groaned, sleepily, as she heard the soft buzz of her phone that rested on the bedside table. Releasing the bear and rolling over to face the nightstand, Jennifer sat up and tucked the covers around her middle as the room had cooled off during the early morning hours. She reached for her flip phone and looked at the ID before flipping it open and answering it. "Hi mom. No, you didn't wake me, I was just lounging." She reached over and pulled the bear onto her lap and toyed with the blue ribbon tails that were kinked and turn in different directions.

The sun poked through from under the heavy mauve curtain and she stifled a yawn as she stared at the bright spots on the floor, dreading opening the door and going outside. The heater kicked on and held a low hum as the room began to warm with a musty aroma.

"Jennifer, when are you going to leave this silly idea alone and come home?" Evelyn half-scoffed at her daughter. The other half of emotion was reserved for what dignity the memory of Travis deserved. She sipped at her coffee and nibbled on a slice of buttered toast Maria, the new maid, had fixed for her. 

Jennifer sighed and looked back down at the bear in her lap. "I have to find him, momma. I have to tell him I'm sorry, for everything."

A sigh came over the line. "Leave it alone. If he is still alive, he doesn't want to be found. Not by this family, at least." Evelyn sat back in her chair on the patio. "Any rate, your sister tells me your son is asking for you. He wants to know when his mother will come home and will it be in time for his birthday?"

Jennifer gave a guilty smile. "Yes, I will be home for his birthday. I promise. I just... I have to do this, right now." An overwhelming feeling of homesickness came over her and she had to change the subject to keep from crying. "I have to go, mom. I have to start my day and send some photos back to my editor. Tell daddy I miss him and Ray and my baby I will call them tonight to talk to him. Love you."

"Love you too, dear." Evelyn hung up with brow furrowing in thought.

~~~~~

Georgia Foley-Strong placed the short tumbler of iced tea down in front of Scotty and then sat across from him on the patio chair she had been lounging in all morning. The older woman of 74 flashed back to a younger woman of 43 and then flashed back to her updated self, in a blink of Scotty's eye as she sat down. "Let's see, Travis.... ? Oh, yes, I remember him. A darling little boy. Didn't really speak much, although, he didn't really know a lot of English back then." She paused to think back to the little boy with big brown eyes and dark curls. "Poor thing lost his younger twin brother to an accident on a playground and then his mother two years later. But, I always got a great big hug whenever I went to do a check." She shrugged and sipped her tea through a clear straw. 

There was no real backyard to her brother's house, only a patio set that had been painted white and a yellow sun umbrella that had started to fade. She lounged in a soft purple felt jumper and flip flops and tapped her cigarette ash into the small metal ashtray on the table. A smile graced her thin lips as she thought about the little boy who was always happy to see her but was never really talkative during the visits. "That was over thirty years ago. Oh, where does the time go?" Georgia leant back and eyed the young detective, who scribbled notes down in his small notebook. "Are you from California? Has he done something wrong?"

Scotty looked up from his writing and smiled, nervously. "No, ma'am. I'm from the Cold Case division, here in Philly. A young woman was looking for him and had some sources that lead her to believe he was here, in town. When was the last time you saw Travis?"

Georgia wrinkled her nose in thought. "A young woman, huh? Hm. Um, I retired in '93 and the last time I saw him, it was just about fourth of July of '80." She smiled and laughed as she sat back and shook her head. "He was the cutest little boy that I ever had cross my desk."

"Did you know the people that his mother was staying with, before she died?" Scotty's curiosity about Travis had piqued.

A flutter of birds wisped overhead and then over the top of the house. Georgia lit another cigarette after snubbig the first one out in the ash tray on the table and thought. 

"I did. They were a sweet couple but, kinda hippy for the little kiddo. He wanted to stay but they weren't really family-oriented, ya know? His mother overdosed in front of him so, they were not at all the best decision. They did come to see me and ask about him, a few times but our records stated we couldn't share that with them." Georgia shrugged and shifted in her chair, placing the half-burnt cigarette onto the side of the ash tray. "I just remembered, I have a picture of him, the day I was finishing his case. I'll be right back." She stood and walked back into the house and grabbed a large brown photo album from the bookshelf in the living room and smiled as she clutched it to her chest, walking back outside. She walked back to her chair and opened the book, turning immediately to the page and slipping the small square photo out of the sleeve and handing it to him. "That's Travis. He was such a doll."

Scotty stared at the photo and remembered the photo Jennifer had shown him of he and his mother, taken only a few years prior. The happy five-year-old waved at the camera and smiled a cheerful smile that seemed to light up his face. "What was your impression of the Cannes, if I may ask?"

Georgia stared at the photo Scotty held. She recalled the first meeting with them in the living room and also meeting Evelyn Canne, prior to that. "That little boy was so... I think he really missed his momma but he was always glad to see me. I met Evelyn Canne first. She was a sweetheart of a gal and knew Veronica personally. I think they were classmates in college or something. I could tell she loved him right off the bat. Those kids of hers, though... they were best left in boarding school. But, he was always clean and fed and well cared for so my hands were tied." She looked up to find him watching her as he listened. "I stopped by a few days later, from dropping him off, and asked if he was getting along alright. He nodded and pointed to his clothes and shoes and told me what they were, in English. So precious."

Scotty nodded and wrote down more notes. "Any other contact with him, since?"

Georgia shifted again. "No. Not that I know of." She sipped her tea and took another drag of her cigarette. Since leaving Los Angeles and taking care of her brother, she had falled into a smoking habit after meeting her second ex-husband. A breeze started and she carried the sound of her brother's faint voice calling to her, from the living room.

Thanking her and handing the photo back to her, Scotty picked up the pad and pen he used and quietly left through the side gate. The more he found out about Travis, the more he wondered what happened the night he disappeared from Los Angeles and somehow came to settle in Philadelphia.

~~~~~~

Lily peered over Scotty's shoulder and asked what he was doing, a look of utter curiosity on her face. She had just finished up a case from 1943 and laid it to rest, along with the wreath the grandson had bought for his grandmother and was needing something a little more uplifting to follow. 

"I had a lady knock on my door the other night and ask if I was someone she knew. She's been looking for him for ten years and this case just gets more strange by the minute." Scotty busied himself with paperwork and phone numbers that Jennifer had given him. Some numbers, he had to dig for on the internet but most were easily accessible. Picking up a yellow memo note, he reached for his desk phone and picked up the receiver, reading the number and starting to dial. It rang only a few times before a woman answered. "Uh, hello, Mrs. Williams, my name is Scott Valens, I'm a detective with the Philadelphia Cold Case. I was wondering if you knew a Travis DiNuccio, by any chance?" Scotty sat back as the woman on the other end answered him and asked why he wanted to know. "I met with a Jennifer Canne and she's here looking for him. Do you have a few minutes to talk a little about him?"

Becky sat down in a chair in the dining room of her home and braced for the worst news. "She's looking for him? Still?" She held onto the long brown cord that had become kinked and stretched over the years of being in use but she had refused to trade it in for a cordless, as cordless phones could get lost when her children came for visits.

Scotty grabbed a pen and a clean piece of paper and got ready to write. "Yes ma'am. She mentioned that the last sighting of him was here in town. Are you still with the Cannes?"

Sighing and shifting in her seat, Becky stared out her front window. "No, I retired from them about seven years ago. Why on earth is she looking for him?"

"I'm not really sure. However, she gave me the impression that she was having difficulty overcoming something that happened the night he disappeared and wanted to rectify it with him. So you know what it was that happened to him?" Scotty got ready to write whatever she might say and hoped she knew the full story. He didn't want to have to arrest Jennifer, in case of murder, but if foul play was involved he couldn't stay silent.

Lily pulled her chair around to sit beside his desk and listen in on his side of the conversation. It intrigued her and she wanted to learn more, in case he needed another set of ears and eyes. She watched him write down what was said and glanced over at the photos Jennifer had left with him of Travis.

Shifting uneasily in her chair, Becky's mouth twitched. "Well, that little boy had such feelings for her, ever since he came to live with them. But she never gave him the time of day. Those kids were always cruel to him and Mister Canne.... The first night he was there, he had to ask, in American, if he could have something to eat. The boy had a terrible time. He spoke Italian, you know? Anyway, I was given orders not to give him anything until he said the words properly. 'May I please have something to eat?' That was a lot for a little boy to say, let alone one just learning English. I let it go after three or four tries with it and gave him a ham and cheese sandwich and glass of milk." Becky let her mind wander back to the night of sitting at the kitchen table, across from the scared and confused little boy with big brown eyes, and trying to help him with his task. "He finally got close with 'Please, I have something eat.' I'll never forget that sentence. What broke my heart for him was him asking me what 'idiot' meant."

Scotty listened and wrote it down, trying to get a better picture of the situation. "You don't think she would do anything malicious to him, do you?"

"All I know, is that before he left, something happened but he wouldn't say. He didn't have to. I'm a mother of two boys and one girl, I know what goes on when they start acting all guilty. Now, he was good and acted like nothing happened and you'd never know it from him but she flaunted herself like she was the Queen of Sheba. That continued for about a week or so and then I sent him to the store for a few things and he never came back." Becky sighed and glanced over at the small table along the wall, in the dining room, that housed photos of her children and family. She stared at one photo in particular of her son "Michael and Travis, arms around each other's shoulders and smiling big for the camera. She missed the boy of 10 and even the young man of 25 and hoped Scotty would find him and bring him home.

"What about your children? Did they know Travis?"

Becky smiled and stood up to retrieve the photo of Travis and Michael, from the table. "Oh yes. He was friends with my oldest, Michael. Those two were inseparable. Michael was about the only best friend he ever had. They were always playing soccer and climbing the tree in the back, and then it was right back to being Lonely Joe when he went home. I had a get together one summer day, and he and Michael were in the backyard kicking the ball around. That girl came over to bring back a jacket that needed sewing and I invited her to stay and eat with us. She saw those boys just playing and laughing and something clicked in her. My boy would never do anything to hurt Travis. He loved that boy like a brother and vise versa. But, Jennifer..." she sighed and took another breath before searching for the words to say, "I think that's when she really had feelings for him."

"How long ago was this?" Scotty sat up with interest.

Becky thought. "Maybe late May of '99." She paused and shifted in her seat. "I hope you find him okay. He deserves to be happy. Wherever he is."

Scotty nodded silently. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Williams."

Continued.


	4. Chapter 4

28 May 1999

"Boys, don't get yourselves all dirty! We're gonna eat soon." Becky yelled through the backdoor screen as she watched Travis and Michael kicking a soccer ball back and forth to each other whilst she dried freshly washed dishes.

Neither boy stopped playing or even looked up at her but both offered her a compliant "'Kay!" as they continued their playful foot war with the spotted ball. At evening time, they had finished their chores and had gotten bored of cleaning and setting the table so, they slipped off to the open, just mowed back yard to relax and stay out of the kitchen. 

Becky smiled and shook her head as she turned back to the half full sink of soap water and dishes. She sighed as she put down the dry plate she held and pulled another out of the water to dry. Watching them through the kitchen window, she heard a knock on the front door and a young woman's voice call out to the inhabitant. 

"Hello...? Becky...?" Jennifer stood there in a white mini skirt and a pink t-shirt with rolled sleeves. 

Becky turned from the sink and backyard to peer around the corner of the small dining room and blink at the woman on her front step. "Hi, come on in." She waved Jennifer inside and gave a quizzical look as she turned back to place the plate and town down on the countre before making her way back around to see what she wanted. 

Jennifer stepped inside and now stood in the middle of the medium-sized living room. "I know it's your day off but, I need this jacket sewn before we go to Vegas, tomorrow." She gave a hopeful smile to the woman and felt a little uncomfortable standing in the woman's living room. She held a denim jacket that had become frayed through the bottom seam and hadn't wanted to either get rid of it or buy another, as it was her favourite jacket.

Looking the item over, Becky inspected the small tear that had grown to an inch-wide tear, along the bottom of the jacket. "That doesn't look too bad. I can have it for you after supper." She sighed and looked up at the nervous girl but before she could say anything, the oven timer went off, letting her know the roast chicken and scalloped potatoes were down. "You eaten yet?"

Jennifer bit her lower lip and shook her head. "No..." Before she could step back, she was led by the arm to the dining room and told to pick a chair.

"Good, then you can sit down and have some supper with us." Becky pointed to the beautifully set table as she rounded the corner back into the kitchen. She then poked her head out the backdoor and called in Travis and Michael. "Travis, Michael get cleaned up and put the ball away. Time for supper! Travis, you need to settle down and get in here and rest. You've been playing too hard, again." She noted that he had started to puff and had looked pekid as the two turned to look at her and then make their way inside. As they reached the door, she took his chin in her hand and took a closer look at his face. "You bring your pills, young man?" She asked quietly.

Travis nodded and lowered his gaze to the floor as he stepped into the kitchen. "Yes, ma'am." He was still wheezing and panting and began to feel light-headed and very tired. 

Becky let go of his chin and stepped aside for him to pass. "Good, you just go get cleaned up and take your pill. Michael, call Kari and tell her to get her backside home!" She went back to removing the chicken and potatoed from the oven but watched Travis out of the corner of her eye as he caught sight of the dinner guest that had stopped by whilst they were outside. 

Quickly, Travis downcast his eyes and bowed his head as he passed by her to follow Michael to his room for a clean shirt and then to the guest bathroom to clean up. When he came back out, they were sitting at the table and the only open spot left was beside Jennifer. Quietly, he cleared his throat and sat down before bowing his head for family prayer. Throughout the meal, he glanced to his right and held his breath at minuscule times and ate cautiously and quietly. 

~~~~~~

Scotty had let his curiosity run with him and decided to give the Los Angeles Police Department a call. With Jennifer's lack of information about what happened to Travis weighing on his mind, he wanted to be sure he wasn't helping a would-be murderer find her victim. "Good afternoon, my name is Detective Scott Valens from the Philadelphia Police Department. I have a lady here who is looking for someone who disappeared from your city, ten years ago, and says her ex-boyfriend might have been involved. The boyfriend's name is Mark Winstead." He paused as he was put on hold and transferred to the Sergeant in charge of the case. "Yes. Winstead. This was around May or June of '99, involving a Travis DiNuccio." Wedging the phone between his ear and his right shoulder, Scotty got ready to write down the information. He scribbled quickly and found himself gasping at the information the sergeant on the other end was relaying. "Okay. Thank you very much." He ended the call and hung up the receiver before sighing and staring at the notes he had just written down. 

Lily looked up from her paperwork on a twelve year old case and turned her chair to face him. "Got an earful, huh?"

Nodding, Scotty leant back, still holding and staring at his notepad. "Mark Winstead, although the son of a prominent attourney in Los Angeles, has been in and out of the crossbars since he was fourteen. His daddy and Jennifer's daddy- best buds. In June of '99, Mark was caught for shoplifting a case of beer on his way out of Hollywood Hills region. When arrested, he couldn't explain why his clothes were covered in dirt and dried blood. Sergeant said they combed those hills, after his arrest ad booking, never found anything and by then, Jennifer had already been dropped off at home but they questioned her the next day. Sgt Hicks said she looked spooked and disoriented." Scotty shook his head. "June 14th, 1999."

Lily took in the new information and tried piecing together the two weeks inbetween Travis being at Becky's house and Mark's arrest. "Okay, so, maybe she knows what happened on that night but if she despised Travis so much, why not celebrate his disappearance with her boyfriend? I think we'd better find out what happened that day."

Scotty agreed and stood up to turn and walk with her to his car when his desk phone rang, halting the action. "Detective Valens." He held up a finger to let Lily know to wait and slowly sat back down as he listened to the caller. "I'm sorry, you're who? Oh, yes, yes we'll be right down. Thank you." Again, he scribbled a name down in his notepad and then stood back up, turning to Lily with the new information. "Mrs. Foley, now Strong, was Travis' social worker, the one who delivered him to the Cannes. She found her old file on him and turns out Travis's dad lives up in Jersey City."

"Think that's why he came across country?" Lily asked as they walked out of the squadroom together.

Shaking his head again, Scotty wasn't sure how to answer. "I think Travis isn't the only one that knows what happened that night but that might be a good alternate reason."

~~~~~~

"I wanted to bring this to you. Travis was a special little boy and it breaks my heart to hear about his awful life with that family." Georgia cleared her throat as she watched the folder exchange hands from her's to Scotty's. "If I had known what would happen, I would have opted to adopt him." She shrugged and shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. She had dressed nicely in going-to-town clothes instead of her usual fuscia running suit. 

"Did your agency ever try to find Travis' dad?, before giving him to the Cannes?" Lily asked as she glanced over Scotty's left shoulder as the paperwork he flipped through, in the folder.

Georgia sighed as they stood outside the precinct. She adjusted her big, round sunglasses with pink glitter frames and smiled at the question. "We tried. I even asked Penny, his mother's best friend, if she knew who he was. She said no but her husband looked at her funny when she answered. I got the feeling more was going on, you know? Anyway, he came to me a few days later and had that photo in his hands." She nodded to the technicolour photo Scotty now held. 

Scotty studied the photo and the people in it. "The pregnant woman is Veronica, so the two people on the outside of the group must be Penny and her husband...?"

Georgia nodded.

"Did the husband give a name? How do you know he lives in Jersey City?" He passed the small square photo to Lily and kept his eyes on Georgia.

Georgia thought for a minute. "Mario something with an R. He said this kid really scared him. Some mobster's son from Sicily. He'd use everything he could to keep her in line." Tossing a hand up and shaking her head, she gave the photo one last look and then smiled at Scotty. "That's all I know. I found out he lives in Jersey City from something my brother said. He had a mechanic in Jersey who was hellbent on finding his wife and their kid. My brother never paid much attention to it but when you came over the other day, he saw the photo of Travis and her and told me that was the same girl from the car shop my brother went to." She stepped forward and placed the same hand on Scotty's arm. "Word of advice; he doesn't need to know anything about Travis. That boy's been through one Hell already."

Both Scotty and Lily agreed and thanked her for the file and the information.

~~~~~~~

Jennifer sat down on the edge of the bed and clasped her hands together on her lap. "I- I don't really remember that night." She had given the two chairs at the small table, next to the window, to the two detectives and shivered as Scotty opened his notepad and clicked the top of his pen, to get ready to write.

"Then, how about starting with something you do know, like how you seduced Travis, just before he vanished?" Scotty kept his emotions in check and remained passive over the information. He placed his notepad on the table and waited for her to answer him. "Becky told me how you flaunted yourself in front of him but that Travis knew better not to let on that anything ever happened. Is that why you feel so guilty, all these years later? Or, did Mark somehow find out about you and the houseboy and decided to put an end to his girl's 'indiscretions'?"

Hanging her head and shaking it, Jennifer looked away. "It wasn't like that... Not... at first. The night I went over to Becky's, I needed my jacket sewn. I loved that jacket. I didn't know Travis was going to be there. I thought he went wherever houseboys went on their off-days. Anyway, I got there just before they sat down to eat." She smiled and looked up at Lily. "He and Mikey were in the backyard, playing soccer or something. That was the first time I ever heard him laugh, or even smile and mean it. Well, I stayed for supper and half the night. When my car wouldn't start, Becky offered me a place to stay there. Kari and her friend had her room so, Travis gave up his 'spare room' he had, whenever he would stay there, and he took the sofa." She paused to take a breath as she remembered the night at Becky's. 

"When was this?" Lily shifted in her seat and crossed her legs.

Jennifer straightened. "Uh, May... 28th? It stormed that night and the thunder pounded right over my head. From where his room was, I could see the glow of the living room light. So, I got up and pretended I wanted a drink of water. As soon as my door opened, he shut off the light and lie down on the sofa, under the front window. He was already out when I crept out to see him. I watched him sleep for a little while, cuddling his blue bear like life or death."

Lily smiled and nodded over at the fuzzy blue bear resting on the pillow. "That one?"

Following the line of sight, Jennifer smiled and nodded. "Becky had this extension cord strip that she plugged in and brought around to sit on the floor, next to the sofa, where he plugged in that silly little nightlight. Anyway, it lit up his face like... well, I sat there for a while and I could have sworn I fell asleep in the chair but, the next morning, I woke up in the bed. I came out and Becky was fixing breakfast, in the kitchen. The sofa was made and linens were folded and put away. Travis was gone. I asked her where he was and she told be he had already cleaned up and headed back home, after he carried me back to the bedroom and covered me up. She fixed me breakfast and sat down to have some coffee, I asked her why he was there and what the dinner was about. She told me it had been his birthday a week or so before so, they decided to have a birthday party for him, as soon as Mikey could get time off from his job and come home." 

Lily shifted again and turned to look at the sketchpad that Jennifer had laid on the table, and pick it up. Opening the pad, she looked over the first drawing of a little girl sitting on the floor, in front of a tall, decorated Christmas tree. Her back to the sketcher. It was a pencil drawing, complete with a fire in the fireplace and the girl paying attention to the wrapped package with a big dark bow, in her hands. She flipped the page and stared at the scene of a girl swinging on a backyard swingset, a big smile on her upturned face. A few more pages in and she came across Jennifer walking down white elegant stairs in a long, flowing gown. Her hair done up neatly and a large corsage on her left wrist. Each drawing was perfectly done, as if by a skilled artist. "Are these his?" As Jennifer nodded, Lily smiled and flipped through the rest of the sketches.

"He took art in high school. I guess he really didn't need it. Some of those were done long before he ever went there." Jennifer stared at the pad and watched Lily flip through the pages. "Our... night together... didn't happen until a week later."

~~~~~~~~

4, June 1999

Travis sat crossways on the end of his bed, his back against the wall. His legs straight and crossed at the ankles, right over left. He read a book he had borrowed from the library and was engrossed in the third chapter when a knock on his open door startled him. Quickly, he closed the book and let it fall to the floor as he moved to stand up and address who was standing in the doorway. "Miss...?" He swallowed as his heart pound in his chest. "Was there something you needed?" Remembering that he wasn't supposed to stare at her, he averted his eyes. His arms became restless with unease as she had never ventured down his side hall, off of the kitchen, before. Absently, he looked around his room and made himself busy with straightening his thin tan quilt on his bed before moving to straighten the papers on his desk that planned out his work week. The room hadn't been messy in the least as it had very little belongings in it, to mess it up but he still busied himself as if it were expected of him.

Jennifer stepped into the room and walked over to the book on the floor that lay open to a miscellaneous page he hadn't read yet. She picked it up and closed it, reading the cover. "Tolstoy? I've always thought you were more of a ... Seuss guy." She smirked and turned around to see him stop what he was doing and watch her holding the book and looking over the cover before walking back to the desk and placing it on the corner. The change in his posture told her she had made him even more uncomfortable with the insult. 

Travis shifted and stepped back, toward the center of the room. 

Clearing her throat and adjusting her loose, button up sweater, she reached up to fluff her freshly curled hair as she stepped forward. Jennifer bit the side of her lip as she walked over to sit on the side of the bed and wait patiently. She sat with her legs together and her back straight, her hands placed flatly on her bare knees. Patting the seat next to her, she asked him to sit beside her. 

Hesitating and then looking back at the open door, Travis wasn't sure if he should move or not. He stood there for another minute and flinched as she stood back up and walked back to the door. He held his breath as she slowly pushed it shut.

Jennifer turned around and smiled at him. "Now, we won't be bothered." She stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his chest, playing with the red t-shirt material. "I heard it was your birthday. The big 2-5." She watched her hand as it lightly ran over his chest. "Do you, um,..... want anything special...?" Her eyes looked up into his and for a brief second, she knew she hit paydirt.

Travis inhaled her fruity sweet scent and stared at her, using ever ounce of will in his body to remain calm. He took a breath and wet his lips with his tongue. "Yes." A hoarse whisper. She met his eyes with the same pleasant smile and asked what he wanted. "To... um... hold you...? Please....?" He swallowed and hoped she said yes.

Jennifer's brow furrowed with question but with a raised eyebrow, she agreed and was pleasantly surprised when he stepped forward and softly and slowly embraced her. It took a moment before she loosened up and accepted the embrace for what it was. His hands remained above her waistline and she felt no other motive from him, in case her venture into his room had been a set up for something else. She rest her head on his shoulder and stayed there, letting him decide when to let go. She listened to his heartbeat, which seemed to beat in an off-pattern ratio. Her boyfriend, Mark, was always so busy when they held each other; he was always trying to kiss her or grope her or initiate something but, Travis merely stood still and enjoyed being held, by her. No sooner had she started to enjoy the moment that he gently pulled away from her and again, averted his eyes, thanking her for the allowance. Jennifer bit her lip again. She knew he wanted her for much more than just a simple hug and she was curious to see how much further he would go, before deciding it was unconscionable. Reaching up and gently turning his face back to look at her, she softly kissed his lips. Again, to her surprise, he was patient and gentle as he kissed her back. Jennifer placed her hands on his hips and tugged upwards at his shirt, untucking it from his jeans. Her thumbs touched his taut, warm skin. She pulled away from him and moved to recline on the bed, her head resting on his pillow. "Did you... want anything else?"

The twin bed was only big enough for one and the mattress had a protruding spring in the middle, which made it uncomfortable to sleep on, when he chose to sleep under the covers. Travis' room wasn't the warmest in the cold months or even cold in the hot months on the account his vent was semi-clogged so, he left the door open and let the air from the hallway filter in. However, this night had been cool but not so cold. 

His heart pound in his chest as he swallowed the lump in his throat. Something in his brain scolded him not to move any closer to her yet, another part of him needed human contact. From her. Against better judgment, he stepped forward and sat down beside her. Nervously, he moved a hand to slip into hers and hold it, avoiding eye contact and hoping it wasn't a joke; that her father or boyfriend wouldn't burst in and remind him of his station in life. With a quick glance over to her, he took a breath and pulled away from her, standing up and making his way to the door to open it and peer out. 

Jennifer smiled at his reluctance. She looked from him to eye the rest of his room. Next to the bed was a small stool that held an old clock/radio with red analog numbers. Her toes played with the tan bathroom rug, next to the bed that he had sometimes slept on, when the storms were terrible. The Mighty Mouse nightlight of her brother's he had been given years ago still glowed but dimly from the only plug in in the room. At the foot of the bed, across from it, was a small two-shelf brown bookcase he had used as a miscellaneous holder. The top held only three books, classics and one cookbook whilst the lower shelves held his neatly folded clothes, four pairs of pants, five shirts and underwear and socks. The bottom self contained his two pairs of shoes, one for dress/church and white trainers. His desk, across from her, held papers of schedules, menus for the week and a small plain shoebox, placed neatly at the far end. She turned back to the clock/radio and turned it on, regaining his attention. "First Tolstoy, now classical music. Are you sure you're not an alien?" She laughed.

Travis cleared his throat. "My mother would play it for me, to help me sleep." His voice was soft and calm as he made his way back over to turn the radio off. She stopped him by catching his hand. 

Jenifer hushed her amusement. Standing up and gently embracing him again, Jennifer placed her hand in his and positioned them to dance to the soft sonata that played quietly. Her head rest on his shoulder and she inhaled his peppery clean scent. His warmth. His off-rhythm heartbeat. She closed her eyes and listened to him breathe, nervously. 

He had been ready to break from her, to stop the dancing and escape to the far corner of the room, if need be. His mind worked overtime, trying to figure out what game she was playing and why. But, he knew why; she had never liked him, never cared to be so close to him, let alone touch him more than she had to. What did she want? With another moment passing and the music sounding just right, her perfume catching his nose and her body close to his,... Travis closed his eyes and enjoyed the fleeting moment.

Jennifer lifted her head to look at him. He was handsome and clean and soft and took strenuous care in being gentle with her. He had watched her with her boyfriend and their maddening rough and boisterous relationship but Travis held her so peacefully and fragile, careful not to harm her or mar her with bruises he'd have to explain. She reached up and gently moved a lock of hair from that had fallen onto his forehead, causing him to flinch and open his eyes. "Sorry." She had said it half-halfheartedly but the emotion behind it was whole. His dark hair was soft, almost silk, and curled with small waves that, if straightened, would make his hair down to his shoulders in length. She lightly ran her fingers through his hair. Her eyes looked over his features; his eyes, soft and brown, his skin, flawless and perfect and his lips, pink and smoothe and teasing her to kiss them back. Inclining her head and lifting herself up on the balls of her feet, she kissed him, long enough to capture his attention and not notice her leading him over to the bed.

A soft moan from him as the kiss held him deeper, blocking everything else out except the two of them. He wanted her, he needed her and she was giving herself to him. Travis let himself be pulled down to hover over her as she rest her head on his pillow. He could feel her hands all over him; in his hair, on his skin, lifting his shirt and unfastening his jeans, he wanted more. Travis took a ragged breath and watched her as he sat back and removed his t-shirt, Jennifer doing the same to her sweater. He stopped her before she could unclasp her pink lace bra. "I... I... I don't... um,..." he blushed and turned away, embarrassed to tell her that he didn't have any condoms in his possession. 

Jennifer bit her lower lip and smiled at him as she reached into the back pocket if her mini skirt and removed a square blue wrapper. She held it up to show him and tore it open with her teeth. "I could put it on ya, if you'd like?" She waited a minute before sitting up and then rolling off of the bed to stand beside it and wiggle out of her mini skirt that barely hung on her hips. She instructed him to lie down on his back and then bent over to unfasten his jeans before spreading the material. She waited for him to remove his jeans and boxers before carefully placing the latex on him before she teasingly removed her bra and matching panties. 

~~~~

Soft panting and rhythmic movements ceased Travis's worry of anyone finding them, but not entirely. The room was dark, save for the soft glow of the nightlight, next to the bed, just light enough for them to catch fleeting glimpses of one another lost in passion. He moved above her and hushed his pained breaths by kissing her neck and shoulder. He could feel himself getting more and more tired as his chest burned in pleading to stop his actions. On the next pang of pain, Travis closed his eyes and whimpered softly into Jennifer's shoulder. Withdrawing himself and lying beside her, he moved to remove the used latex and throw it into the small green rubbish basket at the end of the bed before pulling a thin and worn quilt Becky had made for him years prior, over them. 

The silence between them lasted for a well over two minutes as he couldn't think of what to say. He hadn't wanted to seem insensitive but he also didn't wish her to see him in pain from their play. "W-was it... okay?" He swallowed and hoped she sad yes but wasn't holding his breath for something mean or a laugh to come from her. 

Jennifer inhaled his scent and rolled onto her left side to face him. She smiled and stared into his big brown eyes. "It was sweet. You didn't like it?"

Travis stumbled over the words but nodded as he tried to hide the red in his cheeks. At the moment, he was fighting exhaustion and trying not to show his uncomfortable feeling in his chest. Glancing down at the pillow and then back up at her, he moved his hand and felt the softness of her golden blonde hair as he lowered himself down to rest his head on his pillow and close his eyes as she followed suit. Travis felt her snuggle close to him and pull the quilt up, over their shoulders as sleep finally claimed him. 

When 4.30AM came, he opened his eyes to find himself alone in his room. Wrapping the blanket around him and walking drowsily over to the lightswitch, he flicked it on and looked about his room that had been clear of Jennifer and her clothing. Something on his clock radio caught his eye; a folded piece of paper. As he made his way over to it, he rubbed his eyes and froze as he picked it up. Swallowing the guilty lump in his throat, he unfolded the green paper and stared at the face of Lincoln staring back at him between pink, bubbly letters that read, "happy birthday."

He shivered as he tried to steel himself against the inevitable hurt that finally showed itself from the night before. He kicked himself for not seeing her game, and yet, couldn't condemn her fully for taking advantage of him as he had wanted their interaction to happen, for a long time coming. He sat there a moment and then made his way to the small washroom, across the way from his bedroom, and readied for the day of chores, every trace of guilt and pleasure erased from his expression.

Continued.


	5. Chapter 5

Scotty looked up from writing and held the pen at the finish of the last letter he wrote. "That didn't strike you as odd? I mean, you had just seduced the houseboy and then turned around and told him how cheap he was by leaving a five dollar tip on the nightstand? Then, to make matters worse, you parade yourself around in front of him like nothing happened. Did your boyfriend see this?" He sat back and shifted to hold up the pen and help her focus on what he was saying. "I've already talked to Sergeant Hicks of the LAPD and he remembers that night that Mark, your boyfriend, was picked up for trying to do a beer run in the Hollywood Hills area. Hicks said he didn't want to talk about why he had dirt and dried blood on his clothes. Maybe you can tell us what happened?"

"I don't know what happened!" Jennifer's brow furrowed and she shifted on the bed. Worry graced her expression and she shook her head and stared at Scotty. "All I know is that Becky sent Travis out for some groceries. He didn't have a car so I drove him... to the store. When we came out, Mark and his friends were parked in front of my car. Mark was a jealous but a good guy. Travis really liked Mark's car; a gorgeous, cherry red convertable from 1967. Cherry, right?" She glanced from Scotty to Lily and back, taking a ragged breath. "Mark was talking to me and his friend noticed Travis 'staring' at the car." She bit her lip out of nervousness. "Mark asked Travis if he wanted to go for a ride. Travis thought about it and-- I could see he really wanted to. But, he said no and that he had to get the groceries home so that Becky could fix supper. Mark promised that he would take Travis home and that they would follow me." She shook her head and shifted nervously. "I should have said something. Mark... All Travis wanted was to belong, have friends." She stared at the floor and raked her bottom teeth over her top lip, thinking of what to say. "They were behind me for like two blocks. When I got home, no Mark or Travis. I called him on his cellphone and he said Travis wanted more of a ride and so, they were going up to the Hills, to watch the sunset. He said he wanted to show him the sign." She stared at the ceiling as the memory flooded her mind. "I should have done something... gone after them. Anything. Maybe Travis would still be alive...?"

Lily looked up from the sketches and stared at the woman. "This was a week after you and Travis got romantic...?"

Jennifer nodded. "I would give anything to relive that day and stop him from getting in that damned car."

"So, how did Mark find out about you two, if Travis never said anything?" Scotty's eyebrows knitted together as he listened.

"I don't know. It could be the end of the world but, you'd never know it from Travis. Like I said, Mark was a good guy but really jealous about his girl. He always treated Travis like... subhuman. At home, at school, anywhere they came face to face. Sometimes, it was intentional." Jennifer paused to look at Scotty. "Every Sunday, Travis would slip away and walk down to the cemetery, to put a rose on his mother's grave. One of those days, Mark and I were coming back from getting ice cream at the mall and saw him walking. Mark crept the car behind him and chased him down. He drove up onto the sidewalk and forced Travis to jump into some lady's yard and cower behind a tree. Mark didn't even stop, he just drove away laughing like it was the most funniest thing ever. We were still in high school then."

Lily moved to grab a tissue from the box on the night stand and hand it to Jennifer as she asked her next question. "Were any charges filed?"

Shaking her head, Jennifer wiped her eyes with the tissue. "Nope. Couldn't find any trace of Travis, anywhere. Like he... he vanished. All they had was Mark's word and all he would say was that he and Travis had 'a disagreement' and then Travis walked away." She sniffled and jumped as her mobile rang from sitting on the nightstand. Moving to pick it up, she stared at the ID. "My sister. She's watching my son." Flipping it open and pressing the green button, she held it to her ear. "Hi Ray." Trying to hide the sadness in her voice, her breath caught as she hear another voice on the other end of the line. "Hi baby! How was school? Yeah? Good job! I miss you too, so much. I'll be home soon, okay? I won't miss it. I promise. You be a good boy and I might bring home a big surprise for you, okay? I love you, too. Can I speak to Aunt Rachel, please? Homework before TV!" She paused and glanced up at the two detectives that both watched her and listened to her. "Ray, um... yes, he can have a cookie before bed. Listen, Ray, I'm going to need to stay here for a few more days. I kn- I know... I know. Ray...? Thanks." With a sigh of relief, Jennifer hung up and dropped the mobile onto the bed, next to her.

Lily asked if she could borrow the sketchbook and eyed it with an idea. On Jennifer's agreeance, the two detectives left and headed back to Lily's car. 

"How's a sketchpad gonna help solve this one? He disappeared off the face of the earth." Scotty stopped at his door and waited before opening it.

Lily opened her door and then leant over the hood to talk to him. "Maybe nothing but, drawings this good, would you do something else, if you escaped with your life?" She smiled as Scotty finally caught on to her thinking and then turned to sit down in the passenger seat, the sketchbook on her lap.

~~~~~~~

"There's gotta be five hundred art galleries in the city alone. That's bettin' that he's still here, if alive." Scotty closed the door after sitting down and buckling his seat belt. Sliding the key into the ignition and turning it, he glanced down at the sketchbook and sighed, thinking about the hundreds of hours they would have to ask every single art gallery in town, just to find one missing person. 

Lily nodded and wasn't looking forward to the work, either but she had an idea of where to start. "So, we go back over the investigator's reports and find Travis' last known vicinity. We can start there." She sighed as Scotty pulled away from the curb and headed back to the precinct. 

After a debrief with the boss and given the go-ahead while the lull continued, Scotty pulled the investigator's file and searched for the phone number to contact him. Clearing his throat and picking up the desk phone, he dialed the Los Angeles number and waited for the man to answer. "Mister Landis? My name is Detective Scott Valens with the Philadelphia Homicide. I understand a young woman came to you a few years ago, looking for an old houseboy her family took in. Her name's Jennifer Canne. Ring any bells?" He sat down in his chair and cleaned off a place to write in his pad, pen poised to take down what the man said.

"Yea, I remember her. She was looking for some kid by the name of Trevor... or something like it, right?" The man on the other end scratched his head and leant back in his 40's style swivel chair. His voice was hard, even though the years mounted against him and the drink caused it to become rougher than it was. He fancied himself a noir detective, even though he had retired from the LAPD and started a proper agency five years before Jennifer knocked on his door.

Scotty nodded. "Travis. Went missing back in '99."

The older man of 67 nodded and took a swig of his bourbon in a small glass tumbler, replacing the bottle back onto his desk. He fashioned himself as his hero gumshoe and often used archaic methods in his work yet, he managed to get high results and promising leads that often turned into a solved case. This case though, was the one that go away. "I remember now. The Canne Case. You were suckered into it, too, huh?" He took a gulp of his drink and replaced the glass onto the desk, beside the bottle. 

His pen still poised to write but he set it down and glanced up at Lily, who stopped at her desk and sat down in her chair. "What do you mean, 'suckered into it'?"

Artie Landis sat up and poured another drink for himself, taking another gulp before answering the question. He found his daily life consisting of sitting in an old office with a slow moving ceiling fan and a yellow light, exciting. "I'm gonna tell you the same thing I got told. 'Leave it alone.' He don't wanna be found." 

All colour and expression draining from Scotty's face, he shifted in his seat. "Told by whom? Travis? You're telling me you found him? Why didn't you say anything? Why tell her you didn't find him? Or, did he buy you off with even more than what she was paying you?" Tracing over and over the capital letters at the top of the page with his pen, he showed it to Lily, "TRAVIS FOUND" and then replaced it on his desk and readied his pen again. 

Landis shivered and sat back in his chair. "Look, I did my share walkin the beat. After 40 years on the job, I've seen my share of crimes against humanity and a lot more. I read the police reports, interviewed the family and friends, they all said the same thing. Picking at a scraped knee never heals. Think of it as Witness Protection. Have a nice day, Detective."

"Mister Landis, murder is still pending on this case. Now, even though they never found his body, Jennifer's boyfriend was still arrested wearing blood and dirt-stained clothes that he wouldn't account for. Travis is the only one that knows what happened that night. Even attempted murder should be punished. Don't you agree, Sergeant?" Scotty almost yelled into the phone, thinking the man would hang up after telling him goodbye but there was never a tone stating that the call had ended. 

Silence gripped the line for a long while until Landis sighed and opened a desk drawer to rifle through his old files. Finding the file he wanted, he pulled it out of the drawer and slapped it down on the desk, opening it with a sigh. "He had a dame in West Philly by the name of Terri Donovan. She worked at a sandwich joint, downtown. I stopped in for a bite to eat, got lucky. After that day, case closed. I told her what I was told. Now, I'm telling you. This ain't no Halloween prank gone wrong. He deserves his peace. Let it be." Landis hung up before Scotty could ask more questions.

Scotty scribbled down the name before he hung up the phone that was already buzzing the dial tone in his ear and smiled as he turned to his partner, holding up the pad for the second time. "Got a name."

~~~~~~~~

It was just after 10AM, the next day, when Scotty opened the door to the hole-in-the-wall deli, The Bread Wrapper, and followed behind Lily as she walked in. It was a cozy place with wooden tables and benches and checkered table cloths. The smell of fresh baked bread weighed thick in the air as they stepped up to the countre and caught the manager's attention.

"Sit anywhere, folks!" The man of 43 waved to them and smiled as they stepped up to the highrise glass case, displaying the breads and meats.

Scotty held up his badge and introduced themselves and asked if Terri was working. 

The smile dropped from his face as Ed Carson stepped closer to them. "She works four to close. She do something wrong?" The man swallowed and wiped his hands on his bibapron. His blue eyes widened in horror of what might have happened to one of his most requested waitresses.

Lily took a breath. "We're Homicide, actually. We reopened an old case from Los Angeles and were given her name."

"Oh god," The colour drained from his face and he immediately felt ill, "did something happen to Joe?"

Scotty shifted. "Joe?"

Ed reached behind him and untied his apron before waving them around to the back room, where his small office was, for privacy. "Joe is her boyfriend. His sister comes here every year, from LA. Nice guy but, I can't imagine he did anything wrong." He talked over his shoulder to them as he lead them down the short hallway to the office and offered them a chair in front of his cramped desk. He sat down in his chair and was handed a candid photo of Travis, from Jennifer's party. "Yeah, yeah, that's Joe. Looks so young, there."

Lily held the photo and watched as the man nodded, staring at Travis in wonder. "Does 'Joe' ever talk about Los Angeles?"

Shaking his head, Ed leant on the desk in curiosity and shock of having two Homicide detectives questioning him. "No. He gets kinda anxious when his sister comes to town, though."

Lily replaced the photo in her billfold as Scotty asked what she was thinking.

"This sister, ever see her? Can you describe her?" Scotty took out his notepad and pen to write down the description.

Ed swallowed and took a long breath. "Well, she's older than him, by a couple of years. I'm pretty sure he's adopted but she has blonde hair, blue eyes, pretty. Her name's uh... Rayanne-- Rachel. She's a doctor, I think." He looked from one detective to the other. "Why is Philly Homicide looking into a case from LAPD?"

Scotty looked up from writing as the familiar name hit his ears and leveled his tone at the worried manager. "They think a witness might be out this way. Joe ever tell you anything else about himself? Like a last name? How long he's lived here?"

"His last name's Carmine. Joseph Carmine." Ed cleared his throat and shook his head again. "No, no. He said he's lived here for about six years. He just said it was a bad time and, I guess, after that kind of accident, a man deserves his privacy. But, I don't get the feeling like he's a bad kid, ya know? I mean, he treats Terri good, takes her out, hangs out here, draws in his sketchbook, that sort of thing. The gallery down the street has a couple of his paintings." Again, he eyes shifted from one detective to the other, trying to read them as either real or fake cops. 

"Have you ever heard the name, Travis DiNuccio?" Lily asked.

"Nope. You're telling me, Joe is this Travis guy? Not possible. I know crazy things happen in California but, this kid... he'd never do anything violent." Ed gave a short laugh and leant back in his chair, not really wanting to believe what he was hearing about someone he called friend.

Both detectives looked at each other but neither would confirm or deny the answer to the question. "Do you have an address for Terri?"

~~~~~~~~

Old City, PA

Scotty noted the small, single-person lift at the end of the hall and noted the fancy carpet on the floor that had only been replaced six months prior. "This place is nicer than my building." He grinned as Lily tossed a sarcastic smile over her shoulder at him. "Seriously. I might pick up a brochure, even if it's the wrong address."

"Maybe we could get them to let you look around to better decide?" Lily snickered as they approached the door.

With the same sarcastic tone, Scotty teased back. "Think so?"

Lily knocked on the door of 4H whilst Scotty stood just out of door range, in case anything went wrong. They waited for a minute but paused from knocking again as they heard movement coming from inside and then the chainlock sliding into place before the door opened. 

"Yes?" A puzzled young man with short black hair, wearing a gray jumper answered the door. Due to the chain being in place, the door only showed two inches of him.

Scotty turned from his sideways stance and looked at the young man closer. "Joseph Carmine?" 

The man took a ragged breath but refused to let the detectives see his worry. "Yes. I'm Joe. What's this about?" He held his breath and hoped it was about the broken street light and the armed robbery last Thursday that he witnessed.

He could see the anxiety of the young man's expression as he held up his badge. "I'm Detective Valens and this is my partner, Detective Rush. Might we have a word with you? We are investigating a report of a witness from Los Angeles, of an incident that happened back in '99." Scotty had wanted to keep it as light as possible in hopes that he would open up and talk about what happened. But, just in case not, he wasn't holding his breath.

"Los Angeles." Joe repeated, half questioning. "No, I'm sorry. I can't help you."

Lily removed her billfold and held up the photo of Travis at the party. "Do you know this man?" She showed him the photo and paid close attention to his expression as he stared at it.

Joe swallowed, his breath ragged. A shiver ran down his back. His eyes widened at the sight of the original photo. "No, I'm sorry. I can't help you. Please go away." He turned away from the photo and started to shut the door when Lily spoke again.

"Travis. This is you, isn't it?" The door was halfway closed when her words stopped him and it opened again.

Joe paused but didn't look at them. "He died. Ten years ago. Leave him dead." From behind him a voice spoke up and asked him who it was and he turned to acknowledge them. "It's the police, scratching old wounds again."

Whilst Joe had turned to talk to the woman behind him, Scotty looked in and saw a metal crutch Joe was leaning on. The metal band around his forearm and the handle he held onto was more than enough evidence to remind him of what Landis was talking about. His eyes fixed to the cane and he nudged Lily to notice it too.

Lily lowered the photo and glanced over at her partner. "Philadelphia Police, ma'am. Mind if we have a word?" Lily spoke up. 

Joe turned around, anger apparent on his face. "Yes, I do. The man in that photo is dead. Died in Los Angeles. Not your concern. Good day, Detectives." He closed the door and moved away from it. Hushed voices came from inside as the two detectives turned away and started to walk back to the lift.

The door opened behind them and there were footsteps coming towards them, hurriedly. 

"Hey, you the two asking about Joe?" A woman young woman stopped a few feet from them and folded her arms as they turned around.

Scotty spoke up as the woman stopped. "Terri?"

A stern look on the woman's face told them she was just as unhappy as Joe, at their showing up. "Yea, I'm Terri and you people need to stop harassing him. I don't know what went on 10 years ago but, this is harassment. Whatever happened, it took years for him to just hold my hand and not flinch at every little thing around us. Years more still to become intimate. You people followed him from Seattle, Chicago, Tucson, Decatur and now here. So, you can go back and tell Miss Priss to get some good therapy, have a nap and then get on with her miserable life. He's spoken for. And then, you can leave us alone. He's been through enough torture and pain. Don't you think he deserves that much?" Long curly black hair had been tied back with a red ribbon, letting the light catch her light bronze skin. Her thin frame hidden under baggy jeans and an old sweatshirt.

"Look, all we want is to ask him what happened the night of June 14th '99. The LAPD has the suspect's version but he was the victim. They'd like to close their case. Also, 'Miss Priss' wants closure, with him, too." Scotty held up his hands to show no contest. He could see she was pretty upset and not for the first time. It wasn't their intention to harass him, however, they needed answers and Joe was the only witness that had them.

Terri shifted and thought about convincing Joe to give his say and to finally confront Jennifer and the life he had no choice but to leave behind. A chance at freedom came with a hefty and painful price and she wasn't sure she wanted him to go through it again. "That's up to him. I want this over as bad as he does but you don't understand the amount of pain and nightmares he's had to overcome." Terri fumed as she turned and stormed back to her apartment and shut the door behind her.

Scotty and Lily waited for a moment, hearing raised voices come from the same flat they had just left. Then, the door opened again.

Continued.


	6. Chapter 6

Jennifer waited in her hotel room and paced the floor, rubbing her nails of her left hand across the palm of her right in a nervous twitch. "What's taking so long?!" She sighed and groaned and checked her watch for the sixth time in five minutes. She sighed again and furiously rubbed her nails against her palm. 

A voice came from the bed, in a calm demeanour. "Jennifer, sit down. They'll call when they'll call. No sense going insane until then." Rachel sat with her back against the headboard and her legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. She read a magazine on the newest techniques and surgeries and available cancer drugs while she glanced over at her sister going stir-crazy. 

"Easy for you to say, Ray, you're not the one who ruined his life. It's been two days! Why haven't they called or stopped by or whatever cops do in this situation?" Jennifer continued to pace and eyed her sister.

Rachel shook her head and turned the page before closing the magazine and tossing on the bed beside her. "I don't know, Jenn. Maybe, they're talking to him to convince him to come out and talk to you. You know, your friends weren't exactly sweet and cuddly to him, back then. As a matter of fact, he had very few people he could turn to when he needed it. Why does it matter to you, now?" She cleared her throat and turned to look fully at her younger sister, who stopped pacing and sat down in the chair closest to the door, by the window.

Glaring over at her sister, Jennifer folded her arms in front of her and sat back in a huff. "I don't remember you being all cute and cuddly to him, Ray. That didn't start until *after* he came to see you at the free clinic." She sighed, unfolded herself and leant forward, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands. "I just,... I'm tired of this feeling, Ray. It just took took long. He drew his frustrations out into beautiful pictures and sketches." Jennifer shook her head, silently kicking herself for her own ignorances. "I wish I hadn't seen that pill bottle. Even still, he should have told dad about it. It's like.... he wanted to die." She said, under her breath.

Moving from where she had sat for the past three hours to sit on the end of the bed and reach out to hold her sister's hand, Rachel took a breath and offered a piece of information she had sat on for the past 13 years. "He did, actually. I found him that Saturday afternoon, standing just outside of dad's office. I asked him if he wanted me to go in with him but, he shook his head. Said he didn't want dad to feel ganged up on. Jenn," she had started to add something else but was silenced by the demanding buzz from the mobile on the table.

Jennifer snatched the mobile from the table and flipped it open to answer it, sounding a little out of breath from exasperation. "Detective--? Did you find him?" She held her breath and bit her lip as she waited, agony of each silent second ticking by.

"We did find him but he said no on meeting." Scotty answered as he sat down in his chair and leant back, staring out the window. 

"But,..." Jennifer whined and then composed herself. "Detective, I'm not going home until he sees me. I just... I came this far. I'm not going back, now."

~~~~~~~~

26 Aug 1997

Travis made his way to the postbox and opened the flap. A considerable amount of envelopes awaited him. He reached in and removed them, closing the flap as he stared at the stack in his hand. Sighing and starting back to the house, his attention was diverted from the walk to the sight of Jennifer getting out of her boyfriend's car and heading up the wide porch steps and into the house. As Mark pulled out of the driveway, Travis tripped over an uneven bricking in the walk and stumbled to the ground, spilling the stack of envelopes in front of him. He sighed as he quickly glanced around for anyone who might have seen his spill. As he reached out to recover the stack, his hand brushed against a manila window envelope with his name on it. He swallowed as he took a breath and stared at his name in print in the rectangular window before gathering the rest up and hurrying back inside. 

Panting as he stopped in front of the small table, just inside the door, he glanced at the envelope he had kept separate from the stack and placed the stack on the white marbled top of the table. Travis made his way into his bedroom and tore up the envelope open to pull out the folded letter inside. Once unfolded, he skimmed the letter and sat down on the end of his bed, in the corner of the room and stared at the wording he had dreaded to read for a month. Biting into his bottom lip, Travis raised a hand to his mouth and covered it as he read the cost, at the bottle of the page, in bold numbers. Folding it back up and then joining the sides, he placed it in his backpocket and made his way out to the hall and under the main stairs, to stand just outside of Mr. Canne's home office.

"Travis?" A feminine voice behind him startled him.

Jumping and turning around to see who was talking to him, Travis breathed a sigh of relief as it was only Rachel, who had noticed him standing there, on her way to work. 

Rachel moved closer to him and stopped. "Is everything alright?" She was dressed in her light blue scrubs and clutched her small brown purse that she carried, in front of her. 

Travis nodded and gave a soft reply. "Yes, ma'am. I was just.... going to talk to Mister Canne about something."

Nodding, Rachel eyed his demeanour. "Okay." She could tell something was off about him but didn't want to ask. "Did you want me to go with you?" She knew Travis speaking to anyone in the house, other than Becky, made him edgy and talking to the head of the household, would probably upset him more. 

Shaking his head, Travis gave a weak smile. "No, ma'am. I'll be okay. Thank you."

"Okay." Rachel understood and checked her watch. "I've got to get to work." She reached out and touched his arm, causing him to flinch slightly. "Just relax, take your time. It'll be okay." Giving him a smile, she turned and hurried out of the house and off to work. She had stayed at the house overnight, finishing packing up to move into her own house, with her fiance but had lounged for most of the morning, instead of packing. An act she would come to regret once she was home from work.

He stood there another long moment and then knocked on the door, light at first and then with a little more force, thinking Mister Canne couldn't hear him knock.

"Yes?!" Came the yell from inside the room.

Travis opened the door and cautiously stepped inside the room, waiting for the answer to his question before closing the door behind him. "Sir? May I speak with you, a moment? Please?" His hands shook as he tried to hide the same shake in his voice, as he spoke to the man he had feared for so long.

Mister Canne hadn't looked up from his paperwork and only flashed mild interest at the young man that stood before him. "Yes, Travis, what is it?"

Staring at the man's pen as it moved across the papers, Travis told himself to take a breath and speak before he angered the head of the household. "Thank you, sir." He cleared his throat and calmed himself. "I was wondering if I might have some extra chores and.... possibly..... a raise....?" 

At the mention of the word "raise," Edward Canne stopped writing. He sat back and looked up at the man still standing before him, across the desk. "There's always more work to be found, here. You are certainly welcome to engage in any one of them. However, why do you feel you are worthy of a raise?"

Travis felt his body shake uncontrollably as the older man stared up at him with cold, calculating eyes that always seemed to look right through him. "I.. I.. um, There's something I would like to buy, sir. It's a little out of my price range, for now. I'm willing to work for it, sir." He bit his lip to hide his terror as he stood there.

Edward moved to remove a large ledger from a drawer in his desk and open it to a page where he kept track of Travis' employment with the family. "How much do I pay you, currently?"

"Six and a half an hour. Sir."

Edward nodded in agreement as he stared at the tally sheet. "Six and a half an hour and you already work sixty hours a week, and now you want more chores and more pay?" Brushing off Travis' meek reply, he continued. "I let you live here rent-free, you don't have a vehicle to maintain, nor pay any bills. So," he closed the book and looked up at Travis again, "what is the truthful reason you think you deserve a raise? Or, are you trying to extort money from me?"

Travis's eyes opened wide at the allegation. "No, sir. I would never....." His heart pound in his chest as he stood there and he could barely find air to breathe. Drawing a ragged breath, he knew it was no one's business but his own why he wanted the money but, he also knew that Mister Canne would not give it without a viable reason. "A few months ago, I went to a clinic. Ms. Becky told me I needed a check up. They referred me to another place and did some more tests. They put me through a machine and when the test came back, they told me I would need to have a surgery, for my heart. I wou-... I would like to have the surgery. Please?"

Running his top teeth along his bottom lip, Edward stared up at him with hardly any emotion. "Surgery? I assume you have written results telling you this?"

Travis nodded and removed the folded paper from his back pocket. He unfolded it and stepped forward to hand it to his employer. He waited as the man accepted it and looked over the paper and then nodded in understanding. 

"This says surgery would be a good option but not immediately recommended. Therefore, they see you as fit enough to continue to work and earn your allowance until such time as you can pay for the procedure from your own account. In conclusion, the swell of chores will start next week but I see no reason for a raise in pay, as of yet. If that is all, you are dismissed to continue your evening chores." Edward folded the paper and tossed it onto the desk before returning to his paperwork. 

"Yes sir. Thank you, sir." Not showing his crushed hopes, Travis collected the paper and replaced it to his backpocket before turning to leave. As he reached the door and was halfway out of it, Mister Canne called his name, causing him to stop and look back at the man behind the desk. 

Edward stopped his work and looked up, over his reading glasses and gave Travis a stern warning. "This discussion has ended. Is that understood?"

Travis nodded. "Yes, sir." Travis left the room and quietly closed the door behind him. 

~~~~~~~~

14 June 1999

The car pulled into a small lot at Griffith Park, that only a few cars had found. Travis sat between two of Mark's friends, in the back seat and felt uneasy as Mark took the keys from the ignition and turned around slowly. It was now four o'clock and the sun had started to inch toward the horizon. "I- I really think we should go back now." The parking lot had visitors from all over, some coming and some going as the evening wore on. They had gone up through the southside entrance and made sure they stopped at a less known/less crowded spot to stop. 

Mark laughed and opened his door to step out, prompting his friends to join him. "Don't be a wuss, Trevor. Get out." Short spiky brown hair flitted in the soft breeze of elevation. A smirk on his face as he exited the car fully and turned to stare at Travis, still sitting in the middle of the backseat. "Come on, it'll be fun. We'll show ya around." Eyeing his friends as the snickered and climbed out of the car, leaving Travis with no choice but to get out.

Once Travis stepped out, the car door shut behind him and Mark and his friend had sandwiched him between them, Mark's arm around his shoulders. He swallowed as he was guided to an overgrown trail and jumped as he heard the trunk lid slam shut. 

"This is a very famous sign, Trevor." Mark's arm held Travis tighter about the shoulders and forbade the man from turning to see the noise he had heard. "I think you'll like it up here. It'll let us...." he gave an erie grin to his right, "clear the air on a few things. So that we can become better friends. Right?"

Travis nodded and casually looked around for possible avenues to get away from them, should the chance arise. 

***

Travis ran faster, harder, stumbling over his own feet as well as various rocks and fallen branches on the ground. He could barely see where he was going, let alone the three angry man chasing him. He stopped to catch his breath, leaning against a tree. He could hear them howling his name, taunting him to come back and join their games. The left side of his head burned from having the hard wood of the bat connect with it. He panted loudly and clapped a hand over his mouth to keep the sound from escaping him. 

Since fleeing for his life, Travis felt more and more anxious, which deepened with the realisation of no one caring that he was missing, and probably wouldn't be concerned with something life-threatening happening to him. He had a feeling Mark knew what he was doing when he pulled the car into a heavily wooded area, in the back of the park. It was new terrain for him and the fact that it was growing darker with every minute, seemed a curse, as well as a blessing. 

"HAHA! I SEE YOU!" A voice called to him from behind him, a good distance away. Mark had chased him the hardest and followed behind as closely as possible, losing Travis only a few times before finding him again. He had had suspicions that Travis and Jennifer had become closer but didn't know how close until they stood at the base of the large Y that he felt Travis was withholding information. It was then that he and his best friend of four years closed in on the young man and managed to land one swing with the bat, knocking Travis to the ground, only to be diverted by sand flying into their eyes in a bleak attempt to have their prey escape further harm.

Night had fallen and but the moon shone so bright that Travis felt like it was a spotlight on him. The incline of the hill was also not much help and only aided the others in their pursuit against him. Travis shuddered as he climbed higher and higher but his limbs felt as if he were racing in molasses. Panting ever louder and wishing the throbbing in his head would subside, was stopped in his tracks at the sound of a loud crack in the air. Almost immediately afterward, another shot rang out from behind him. Dropping to his hands and knees, he couldn't run any further and fell face first into the dirt and dry leaves where he had stopped. He could hear laughing and chattering of Mark's buddies as they came closer to admire their handiwork. 

Mark walked up to where Travis lay and kicked dirt on the body, at his feet. 

Travis felt the sharp kicks of this shoes as well as the blunt strike of the bat. He tried not to move and to relax as best as he could but the panic was quickly building and he wanted to flee, or flag down help. His efforts were in vain as none came and his body betrayed him. 

With a final kick to the ribs, Mark heard a groan from the man on the ground and laughed. "Stay away from my girl. Understand me, now?" He looked up at his third friend, who served as a lookout, coming up the hill to tell them about the patrol that was making their rounds around the trails. Kicking dirt onto Travis's midsection, he waved them down the hill and back to the car, burying the bat in a patch of leaves and fallen tree, halfway down. 

Continued.


	7. Chapter 7

Panting and groaning in his sleep, Joe rolled onto his left side from his back and took a ragged breath. His dream was terrifying and restless. His ears filled with cruel words and monstrous visions of his past life haunted his dreams. He gasped as he felt the blunt hits and kicks of Mark's and his friend's shoes and fists. Silent sobs and tears dampened his pillow and he jumped as Terri's hand touched his shoulder. Joe opened his eyes to find himself not outside in the warm LA air but in his own bed, in the dark, with his girlfriend. 

Terri sat up and looked down at him. "Joe? Hey-? Wake up. It's only a dream." When he didn't seem to hear her, she shook his arm and repeated herself. "Joe, honey, wake up. It's okay. You're safe. Nothing's gonna get you." She hadn't wanted to turn on the light, in case it scared him more so she felt comfortable letting the light from the three soft glow nightlights they had around the room, as well as the moonlight, light the room.

Joe wiped a hand over his face, to wipe away the tears and hush the sobs before he sat up. He looked around himself, staring at the pale colours on the blanket before he turned to look at her. "I'm okay." After a breath, he calmed himself and embraced her as she wrapped her arms around him and rest her head on his shoulder. 

"You can't keep doing this. I know you really don't want to have anything to do with them but, Joe this won't go away. No matter how long you try to ignore it. She isn't going to stop until you tell her to." Terri stared at the headboard and listened to him breathe. 

Nodding and pulling back, ending the embrace, Joe agreed. "These people are what monsters are made of. For the longest time, I've wished I had died instead of Marco, or my mother. I can't go back to that. I won't. But, I miss my friends. I miss visiting my mother and brother, or playing ball with Michael. I miss Becky's cooking." He was silent for a moment and looked away from her. "I miss my teddybear."

"I know." She smiled at the thought of him missing his teddybear. "I'll be right there with you. Promise. I won't let them drag you back." The moonlight through the window cast a perfect silvery glow on his clean skin. She admired the look of his bare chest and face. Cupping his cheek in one hand and pulling him close, she inhaled his clean scent as she placed a kiss on his soft lips. 

Joe returned the kiss and lay back on his back, letting her snuggle close and rest her head on his shoulder, draping an arm over his taut middle. With one arm behind his head, he stroked her back with his free hand. "Thank you, Theresa."

"I love you, Joseph." She closed her eyes and listened to him breathe as she fell asleep with the words, "I love you, too" whispered in her ear.

~~~~~~~

Jennifer opened the taxi door before the car had stopped and stepped out of the backseat as the car pulled up to the curb. "Detective!" She called as Scotty and Lily had just come out of the police building and turned the opposite direction to walk to lunch. 

After paying the driver and getting out to chase down her sister, Rachel came to a stop beside Jennifer and caught the eye of Scotty, whom she gave a friendly smile to. "Jenny, leave it be. Let's just go home. You said you wanted to know that he was alive and well and well,.... he is. He doesn't want to talk to you. Please." She turned to her sister and placed her hand on Jennifer's arm.

For a Tuesday morning, the city was busy. With traffic rushing by to their own destinations as well as people walking by, some hurrying and checking their watches as they jogged in their business suits and dresses to catch the bus or a taxi or just walking to work. They all seemed oblivious to the four people on the pavement, talking. 

Shaking her head and shifting her weight from her left to her right foot, Jennifer glanced over at her sister and bit her lip, nervously. "You don't understand. I was horrible to him. We all were. Now I know he's alive.... Ray, I have to see him. I have to explain-- ... I have to... apologise." She looked back to Scotty and Lily, who eyed her with concern. "If it's the last thing I do on this earth, I have to tell him I'm sorry... for all of that. He didn't deserve it and I was such a horrible nightmare." She took a ragged breath and looked away.

"If you felt sorry for your actions, why didn't you tell him that night you spent with him?" Scotty's words were harsh and caused Jennifer to flinch and look back at him in shock. "You clearly felt something for him, more than just a joke, so why let him go when you could have told him, 10 years ago, before he took that ride with your boyfriend?" After seeing the aftermath and the hurt expression on Joe's face when they had mentioned Los Angeles, his mind had changed and he felt guarded against letting the family hurt him again. 

Jennifer's anger bubbled up inside her. "Because I didn't know it was the last time I'd have the chance!" She turned away and stared at the traffic that passed, on the street. She had to look at something else before she broke down in tears. 

Stepping forward and coming around to block Jennifer's view of the street, Lily smiled and kept her voice calm. "He has a good life now. He's his own person and he's doing just fine. But, I think Rachel could have told you that." She looked from Jennifer to her sister, behind her, as Rachel flashed a guilty look.

Smiling nervously and staring at Lily, Rachel swallowed and looked around them.

Jennifer spun around, breathless and stared at her sister. "What?! You let me walk around like an idiot all these years, going crazy, worrying about someone you knew was alive and well and living the good life, here?! How could you do this to me, Ray?" Jennifer stepped forward, her voice raised in anger and disbelief that her sister would lead her on and not say a word about it.

"How could I do this to you?? What about what you did to him, all those years ago? It wasn't bad enough you gave him grief at every turn at home but you had to do at school, too?" Rachel sighed and looked over at the two detectives. "I admit, my whole family wasn't very nice to him. My mom loved him, that much is true but, she could be blind to things, at times." She paused for a moment as a carhorn sounded close by. "Maybe we should take this some place more.... out of the way?"

~~~~~~~

At a nearby park, they sat down across from each other at a stone table. Jennifer and Rachel on one side and the two detectives on the other. Clouds had moved in and shaded them from the warm sunlight. The sun's rays fell in patches and streaks down to the near empty park. 

Rachel took a breath to gather herself and then looked at the faces of the three waiting people around her. "I worked at a clinic, not too far from home. I was just out of residency and offered to help at a hole in the wall place, downtown. One day, Travis came in. He said he was having chest pains and he felt tired all the time. It was no wonder, I mean, cleaning up after five self-absorbed people in one house and only getting a few hours to do his homework or make the next week's menu or whatever he did and then get to sleep on an uncomfortable bed would probably tucker anyone out faster than anything. The first visit, I guess I kind of ribbed him about it. I told him he was just trying to get out of his chores or wanted an excuse to ask daddy for an extra day off or something." She wet her lips with her tongue and stared at the table, in front of her. "I actually made him doubt the real pain he was in. So much so that, he was carrying a tray up the stairs," she turned and looked over at Jennifer, "your breakfast tray, that day you wanted breakfast in bed. Anyway, he tripped about halfway up and dropped the tray. Food, dishes, everything went everywhere." Rachel returned her stare to the table as she continued, glancing up every once in awhile to make eye contact with the other three. "I came around the corner and he was holding his chest, bent over and panting like he had just ran ninety miles in under five minutes. His face was red and he was just sweating." She sighed and shook her head as she continued. "I came down to look at him closer and told him the signs her had was looking like a heart attack. He brushed it off and cleaned up the mess before trying it again."

"You didn't tell anyone else?" Lily asked.

Shaking her head softly, Rachel sighed deeper and glanced up at her. "I really thought he was kidding. I mean, I was a few grades up on them but, I knew he dreaded school and every interaction with other people, within earshot of out family. And the week before he was upset that daddy wouldn't give him the day off to visit his mother's grave. It was her birthday, I think. I just thought it was him acting out, until I saw that. The earliest I could get him in was three weeks later, when daddy had that business meeting, in Burbank." In another moment of silence between them, she looked up at Scotty's calm face and then closed her eyes in decision. 

12, July 1999

_Daniel stood in the doorway of the extra bedroom his flat had and watched Travis sleep. A soft but firm mattress on a queen-sized bed with cool linens and a soft pillow to rest his head. They had kept him sedated mostly, while he healed and kept a small reading lamp, on the nighttable beside the bed, in case he woke. The light from the lamp was just barely enough to see Travis's form and subtle details but dark enough to not disturb him inbetween consciousness and dream states. He stood there with his arms folded and legs crossed at the ankles as he leant on the frame. Daniel could tell the dream Travis was having was not a very cheery one and he regretted that the younger man had survived the worst. Still, he smiled to himself on the good work they had done in finding him and keeping him alive._

_Rachel came through the front door after a hard day's work and walked up behind her fiance, resting her chin on his shoulder as she looked in on their patient. "How is he?" She whispered._

_"He's better." Daniel tossed a glance over his shoulder at her and then moved to wrap his arms around her. "Michael stopped by for lunch, and they ate some soup Alicia fixed. We got him to move a bit. Fixed his pillows around his leg. I just replaced his bandage about and hour ago and then gave him some medicine to help help him sleep." Daniel had known Travis and the Cannes for awhile. He had liked the young man and was even willing to have small, private conversations in Travis' own language during run-ins in the kitchen. He had explained, one day, that his Nana came from a small Italian town and had since learnt the language whilst visiting for a summer, during his teen years._

_Smiling, Rachel turned to fully embrace him and breathed into his broad chest as she rest her head against it. "Has he said anything?"_

_Daniel shook his head as he stared at Travis's sleeping form. "No. Michael even tried and he just broke down. He really needs to get himself better so he can press charges on Mark and your sister but, I don't blame him for being a wreck. I'm sure it took the soul right out of him." _

_"My family isn't exactly easy to deal with, and that's on a good day." She had turned herself around and rested her back against Daniel's chest, watching Travis as he whimpered and groaned in his terrifying dream. He had been so weak since they had removed the bullet from his left hip and and patched up his bruises and scrapes that he had usually exhausted himself before he did anything he had wanted to. Rachel patted Daniel's hand around her and then stepped forward, into the room and over to the side of the bed. She sat down on the edge and lightly ran her hand through his clean but sweat-dampened hair. Leaning over to whisper in his ear, he seemed to calm at the sound of her voice. "Peaceful dreams, Travis. You're safe now. Relax. Nothing can harm you. You are safe. You're home." She smiled as he sighed and relaxed. After a minute of stoking his hair, she stopped and stood up. She turned back to Daniel and walked over to him, whispering when she stepped close enough. "I'm going to get out of these scrubs and then jump into the shower. I'll sit with him awhile, when I get out. Okay?"_

_Nodding and smiling, Daniel leant over to kiss her. "Okay. I'll be here." _

_When Rachel came back, she brought a chair and sat down beside the bed, watching Travis' expressions and his shallow attempts at moving positions. As she helped him, lightly touching him, she smiled at him as he had opened his eyes to see who was with him. "It's just me, Travis. You're safe." On top of his healing hip from being shot, he was also recovering from four broken ribs and fractured arm and leg. Daniel and Rachel had both used regular items to splint and cast the fractured limbs and had bought various firmness of pillows to help with comfort, whilst he healed._

_Daniel was a medic/EMT and borrowed supplies from his transport whilst Rachel did the major surgical requirements. Both had agreed to keep Travis at Daniel's until he was well enough in body and mind, to decide the next step._

"Who is Michael?" Lily shifted and looked up from writing in her pad.

Rachel paused and looked over at the woman detective. "Travis's only best friend. Michael was Becky's son. He's a detective now but back then, he was a patrol uniform. He was the one that actually found Travis and gave Danny and I a call. It took months to get him to at least talk to us, let alone to just look at us. We had to constantly reassure him he was safe. If Michael hadn't have come around as regular as he did, there'd be nothing left of Travis at all."

Scotty listened to the story and shifted, leaning against the table. "Michael ever make it up here?"

Shaking her head, Rachel shrugged. "If he does, it's a rarity. I only see Michael every now and then." 

Nodding, Scotty looked over at Lily, who looked at him, and then he looked back to Rachel and Jennifer. "I think Joe needs to fill in the blanks."

Rachel stared at him. She knew he was right. "If I do that, he won't forgive me."

"If you don't, the LAPD is going to keep this case open and he'll really never get any rest. Your sister is too close to him, right now. Do you really think, if you left it alone, everything will just blow over? They may not have Mark on murder but assault with intent is still on the table. You and your husband covering it up, is looking like accessory to the fact. How will 'Joe' feel about that?" Scotty could see the anger and bile rising up in Rachel but also caught the shiver run through her as she knew he was right.

Jennifer turned to face her sister. "I have to see him, Ray. Please?"

Rachel sat in silence for a long while before digging her mobile out of her purse and moving to stand up and excuse herself from the table whilst she made a call. "Hi, Joe. Yes, I know what's going on. Yes, I've talked to her and the police. I know, I know we said she'd never find you here and I'm sorry." Though, she was standing a few feet away from them, she looked back to see them watching her. "Joe, I have to ask you something. I need you to please come down here and finish the story of what happened. I know, honey. I know. I broke the promise of her finding you but, Joe, this will end everything. After this, you can do whatever you want. You and Terri can go anywhere and not even tell me. Right now, I'm begging you to please do this for me, and do this for you, too." She listened to silence on the other end and then he got back on the line. "I'll text you the address. Joe? Thanks."

Continued.


	8. Chapter 8

Terri and Joe sat in the car, in the parking lot and faced the table where Rachel and the others sat. Neither moved to exit the vehicle and neither said a word, for the longest time. Terri had driven them there and parked at Joe's request, where he could see whom he would be dealing with. She gave it about five more minutes and then leant closer to him. "Are you sure you want to do this? With her?"

Joe shivered as he thought about being that close to the woman that broke his heart and soul but also realised that Rachel and the two detectives would be within reaching distance too. He wasn't sure if that was a good idea, or not. He bit his lip and wanted to tell her to go home but, he had promised Rachel to finish the incident and he wouldn't let her down. He sighed and then swallowed, keeping his eyes fixed on the woman to Rachel's left, facing them. "It won't be over until I end it, right?" He swallowed again but this time it was the lump of fear that had risen in his throat since the two detectives knocked on their door. "I'll be okay. Just, wait here, for me." He opened the door to the white Camry and stepped out, grabbing his brown wood cane and closing the door behind him before starting over the grassy area to where they sat.

She had turned the engine off when they arrived and rolled down all four of the windows and sighed as she watched him limp across the field. 

The four were busy talking about other details of the case that they hadn't noticed him walk up to the table and stop beside Rachel, who stood and wrapped her arms around him. 

Scotty also stood and offered Joe his seat on the cement bench whilst he chose to stand at the end of the table. "Rachel was just telling us about your seclusion, after Michael found you on the hill. Care to share your side of things?" He waited for Joe to get settled and look up at him before he started to speak.

"My side of things." Joe whispered and smirked at the irony. No one had ever asked him his side of anything before. He looked over to Rachel for reassurance, as she sat back down in her seat and nodded that it was ok for him to do so. "Where do I begin?" In the movement of Rachel greeting him and Scotty standing to offer his seat, Joe had tucked his cane behind him, using the gray windbreaker he carried, to hide most of the shaft. As he had sat down, he made sure to conseal the cane under the table and out of Jennifer's line of sight. 

Lily turned and shifted in her seat, to face him, and continued to speak calmly. "Do you remember anything of that day?"

Joe turned his head away from her, his breath ragged. 

Reaching across the table and holding onto Joe's hand, Rachel whispered to him. "Hey, it's okay." She waited until he looked at her to reassure him before flashing a smile.

Joe shook his head. "It's not a question of remembering. It's something I'll never forget." It took a minute for the breeze to catch Jennifer's soft perfume and travel it over to his nose. After an inhale, he had to hold his breath and tell himself to continue and that Rachel wouldn't let anything happen to him. Still the memory of her and that scent was all too present. He could feel her stare on him and he shivered as he gave a quick glance in her direction. 

~~~~~~~

14 June 1999

They walked for a bit in silence. Mark's arm around Travis's neck seemed to get tighter as they came to stop, just in view of the sign. He stood frozen as a hand clamped down onto the back of his neck and held him there. "I think I should get home, now. Please." His voice was shaky as he was forced to stare straight ahead. Travis heard footsteps behind them stop within feet of where he and Mark stood. 

"We will. But first, we thought you should see the sign." Mark smirked and glanced over his shoulder at his two buddies, who followed them. 

Travis swallowed as he felt Mark's thumb press into the side of his neck. "I see it." He pointed to the large white Y, just below them and gave a nervous smile. 

Mark smirked and nodded. "Yep, there she is." He then shifted and turned to face Travis, standing just off to the side of him. "You had quite the day, huh? You get to take a ride in the car, see the sign-- many people never get to say they did that. Somethin' you can really write home about, huh?" Mark gave a cruel chuckle. "Bet your momma's gonna be so proud. Oh! I forgot... You ain't got a momma, do you? What's a matter? She didn't like you either?" He laughed and tossed a look back at his friends as they had laughed also. 

"S-s-she died." Travis felt the verbal slap but tried not to show it.

"Did she? Well, I'm sure if I had a bastard like you, I'd kill myself, too." Mark could see his words dug deep into Travis and after a small silence, he stepped closer to him and whispered into Travis's ear, his hand grabbing a fistful of black curly hair. "I can see how you'd want to snuggle up to some pretty little skirt, cry all your tears on her soft tits. But, that doesn't mean you get to poach my girl from me."

Travis swallowed and flinched as the hair pulling hurt. "I w-w-would never. Sh-she doesn't even like me."

Mark nodded, sympathetically. "I bet she doesn't." Giving a big yank on Travis's hair at the nape of his neck, he leant in closer. "It's all over you, boy. Who could blame ya, right? I mean, she's hot. She was good, right? Nice and sweet and just enough to whet your whistle."

A deep pang of guilt hit Travis. 

"I've seen how you look at her. Always doggin' her at school, at HER house, starin' at her like some kinda freak."

Travis kept his focus on the tall letter at the midway part of the hill. The sun had started to set and now shined in his eyes, making him squint but every time he tried to turn his head away from both the sun and Mark, he was snapped back as the fist in his hair reminded him who was in control. "I'm sorry."

Mark laughed and loosened his grip on Travis's hair. "Well, that's ok. I know, she's hot stuff. I also know, it won't happen again. Will it?"

Shaking his head, Travis breathed a sigh of relief as the hand on his hair let go. "No sir."

"Good." Mark smiled. "We'll just make sure of that." He stepped back just as Kurt, his youngest lackey, took a swing and landed the Slugger in the middle of Travis's back, knocking the man to the ground and relieving him of the air in his lungs. 

Gasping for air and falling face first into the ground, Travis groaned and tried to push himself up to his knees and hands but was kicked in the right temple by Jase, Mark's best friend from middle school. He reached for anything close and managed to grab a fistful of dirt and toss it over his shoulder at the two thuggish lackeys, gaining a scream from each as they backed off. His next move was to swing a leg back and catch Mark's legs in the knees, causing him to fall over and let out a blood-curdling scream of pain. Gasping for what little air he could get, Travis pushed himself to his feet and ran back to the car. Nearly tripping over the curb, he picked himself up again and lurched for the doorhandle on the driver's side. His heart sank as he found it was locked. He gasped as he heard them coming and he groaned and ran across the roadway, hoping to hide in the denser brush, under cover of night.

~~~~~~~

Scotty shifted. "So, if you didn't tell Mark, and Jennifer didn't.... how'd he find out?" He watched Travis' expressions change and stood poised to write. 

Joe shook his head. "I don't know. No one ever paid me much attention until..." He had only glanced up at Scotty and then back to the table in front of him. 

"If you were 'no one special', how did he know so much about your mother?" Lily queried. She glanced over at Jennifer, who stared at Travis as if she'd forget what he looked like if she even blinked. 

Again, Joe shook his head and lowered it in shame. "I don't know. I didn't kill my mother. I was only four years old." He could feel their eyes on him but couldn't bring himself to see the judgments on their faces. Joe felt ill when the others fell silent for longer than he felt they should have. 

Jennifer swallowed and shifted in her seat. "I- I think I might have." She looked over at Lily and gave a guilty grin. Biting her lip and inhaling as she and Joe finally met eyes, Jennifer whimpered as she stared at the hurt on his face. "I'm sorry. It was just... it was all a joke... to us... but--" Gasping as a tear slipped down her cheek, Jennifer tried to reach across the table and take his hand. "Travis, I'm sorry. I never meant for it to go so far."

Rachel looked over at Lily, who sat mainly confused but willing to listen to the story. "His mom and our mom were university friends. She was a nice lady. I met her once. Anyway, Travis's younger twin brother, Marco, died after he fell off of the jungle gym. His mom died a few years later, she was at a party and did a little too much drugs. The social worker said that Travis was in the room and saw it happen." She looked over at Joe with a small smile of empathy.

Feeling ashamed, Joe felt he needed to distance himself from the group. He could feel the bile rise in his throat as Jennifer tried to inch closer and regain his attention. "I can't do this. I have to go." Glancing up and catching Rachel's eye, Joe struggled to his feet, with the help of Scotty, beside him. 

Scotty held Joe by the arm and helped him to his feet, giving him a chance to speak candidly with him. "Hey, Joe, this might be the last time you get to put those away who did you wrong. You really want to walk away from this?"

"I can't do this with her. Not now." Joe whispered. He looked up and over towards the car, where Terri had already opened the door and stepped out in worry of what was going on between he and Scotty. He stepped forward and held out a hand as Terri ran closer.

Jennifer took a breath and stood up, climbing over the cement bench and rushing over to where Joe and Scotty still stood. "Travis, please! I didn't mean to hurt you." She came around to stand in front of him and hold him by the arm.

A voice came from behind them and snapped at Jennifer just as Terri came within a foot of Joe. "You can take your hands off him." Terri spoke angrily at Jennifer and glared at her to move her point across to the younger Californian. When Jennifer only whipped around and stared at her in shock, she reiterated. "Didja hear me?"

Releasing her hold on Joe, Jennifer backed up and watched as Terri wrapped her arms around Joe and held him as he sobbed, overwhelmed with the day. "Travis, who is this?" She stood there, stunned at the two embracing.

Terri patted his back and then pulled away from him to turn back and look at the woman who ruined her lover's life. "The name's Terri. I'm his girl, now so, you can just pack up and take your happy little ass back to the beach, girl. I can treat him better." A protective tone edged into Terri's words and forced Jennifer to take a step back from the bluntness of her words.

Once Joe gathered himself, after hearing Terri's defensive words, he took a breath and came up with the strength to speak. "I want to go home." Looking from Terri to Jennifer, he added. "If you come after me again, I will file harassment, on all of you. Leave me alone. I'm not your precious whipping boy anymore." Grabbing his cane and leaning on it, he hadn't cared that Jennifer had seen it or the horror on her face as he had needed it to walk, ever since that night on the hill.

Jennifer's eyes remained glued on the cane until they started to walk back to the car. "Wait! Trav-- Joe,... wait." She looked up as they stopped and he turned around as he heard his name. She paused a minute as she made up her mind from deciding to either let him go or give him what she had traveled across country with. She turned and went back to the bench and grabbed her oversized maroon purse and opened it. She reached in and rubbed her thumb against the arm of the bear, smiling to herself she removed it and held it close to her as she dropped the purse onto the bench. Jennifer let the smile fade as she made her way back to where Joe and Terri stood. She stopped and took a breath as she stared at the small, blue face of the stuffed bear. "I wanted to give this to you. I think it deserves to be home with you."

"Bleu." Joe said, breathless. His eyes brightened as he stared at the face of the small toy bear. He felt a rush of excitement as she handed him his old friend. "My mother gave him to me, for my fourth birthday." Embracing the bear, he sighed and felt a calm wash over him. He remembered the feel of the soft fur and the satin blue bow around the bear's neck and the friendly face that had always greeted him after a long, grueling day. 

"I kept him safe for you." Jennifer watched with broken heart as he held the bear close. Not being able to stand it any longer, she turned and walked back to her seat.

~~~~~~~~

Joe sat back down on the bench and held the bear on his lap. With Terri standing behind him with her hands on his shoulders, he felt he could continue a little further with the account of 1999. "I ran, and I ran and I climbed until I couldn't anymore." He stopped and sighed, feeling overwhelmed once again. "I don't know how long I was lying there but, I was ready to go. My head hurt, my back and sides were just throbbing and it felt like my heart was going to explode. I just... couldn't catch my breath. I heard cars passing on the road and I couldn't move. It hurt so much to just breathe." Another pause and a deep breath as he calmed himself from the memory and the terror he felt. 

"Rachel said Becky's son, Michael, found you. How did he know you were up there?" Scotty shifted and looked up from his writing.

Shaking his head, Joe shrugged. "He didn't. I didn't know who found me until days later, when I woke up in Daniel's spare room."

"When I woke up, they told me I had been shot, in the hip. Rachel dug it out and they had to keep me sedated to heal my broken ribs and fractured arm. Apparently, Ma-- he stomped on my left arm. I was a mess for a long while. Michael came by every day and tried to cheer me up or have lunch or breakfast with me, to shake me out of wherever I was." Joe stared down at his bear and took deep breaths.

Rachel picked up the missing pieces and filled them in. "He spent about two months sedated or relaxed until he healed enough to be able to move and understand what had happened. He had terrible nightmares, and he would often wake up crying or screaming." 

Lily went over her own notes from the interview and shifted on her seat. "So, who came up with the name change?" She looked form one to the other as they shared a silence.

"Joe did." Rachel nodded over to him.

"It was after Akron that we decided on a change. I was tired of the private investigators always over my shoulder. So, I chose Joseph from my brother's middle name and Carmine, which is my middle name. After the last guy, I had had enough so, I changed it. That was around the time I met Terri. She's been heaven-sent to me . She loves me for me, no games, no strings, no discourse." He raised a hand and placed it on Terri's that rest on his right shoulder. He glanced around but stopped as he saw that his last statement seemed to bite at Jennifer.

Scotty nodded as he wrote. "Do you think you'd be willing to press charges? I mean, mental duress, physical assault, verbal abuse, attempted murder.... This guy should not be walking around, free as a bird. But, you would also have to press charges on the Cannes....?"

Joe looked up at Scotty and the two men shared a look of understanding. "I don't know. This is a bit much, right now." He looked down at his bear and smiled. He had felt lighter than he had in years.

Moving to embrace him from behind, Terri kissed Joe's left temple and then looked up at Scotty. "I'll be right there with him. With whatever he decides."

Smiling and fishing a card out of her pocket and sliding it across the table to Joe, Lily slipped her pen and pad into her coat pocket and stood up. "That's my number in case you decide, or not." She watched as Scotty did the same with his card, handing it to Terri, before she continued. "Can we give you two a ride back to your hotel?" She asked Jennifer and Rachel, who still sat on the bench across from them. 

Rachel smiled. "That would be great. Thank you." She gave a wink to Joe and stood up before looking over to her sister, who remained seated.

"Can I have a word with J-Joe, a minute? Please?" Jennifer stared at him and noted his uneasy reaction as he looked at the others' faces and nodded. 

Lily nodded and moved to stand where Scotty was and took one last look back at Joe before speaking. "Of course. But, we won't be far."

Once Rachel, Terri and the two detectives moved a few yards away, Jennifer slid down to sit across from him and gathered her words of what to say. Her lips parted as she had so much to say but no beginning on where to start. She could feel him staring at her, waiting for her to say what she wanted to him but nothing came out. Finally, she noticed his movement to stand up and snapped herself out of her daze. "Wait." She took a breath and found herself staring up, into his soft brown eyes. The same eyes that had haunted her since their night together. "Travis, I'm so sorry for how I've treated you." Her voice was low and calm as she started. "I've spent years looking because... I just... That night, in your room, I didn't realise how much... human... you actually were." Her eyes lowered to the table as his calm but piercing stare unnerved her. "Monica told me about that night at the party; how you carried me up to my room and were terrified to set foot inside. Then, they told me about how you made them breakfast and cleaned up the mess before passing out, later that afternoon. I never thought to tell you that you were such a great cook, or that you had an amasing gift of drawing from memory. You could have taken all your anger out on me and my family, in your sketchbook, but you didn't." She stopped herself as the tears welled up in her eyes and choked her voice. After a long silence, she continued. "That night, it was special and nice. I didn't expect you to ask me for a hug, or even to kiss me back. Mark had-- he took what he wanted and usually treated me like a possession. You treated me like I was fragile glass, something I had never had before. I- I didn't tell him about that night and what happened. I swear. But, I must have told him my new view on you and how sweet you were and that must have set him off." She took another breath and looked up at him, seeing his same clam patience staring back at her. "Please believe me, I didn't know what he would do. I certainly didn't mean to harm you. I didn't know about your heart until we were cleaning your room and I found your letter."

Joe sat there a minute and listened. After a pause, he reached back and removed his faded bilfold from his right back pocket and opened it. Removing a folded five dollar bill and unfolding it, he laid it on the table, between them. "I have hated that night since I woke up and found this on my bedtable. All of the hurt from the years before seemed like nothing, compared to this. It took years to believe that not every woman was like you. Terri is that woman. And to be honest, I really expected to die on that hill. I knew Michael would search for me but, as it turned out, Rachel and Danny were more human than anyone else in your family. I've had to relearn a lot of things, Jennifer. How to walk, how to actually speak to people as their equal and not a servant, and how to hold my head high." He paused and inhaled deeply, releasing it before finishing. "I hope you and Mark are very happy, together. I meant what I said, I don't need to see you again."

Jennifer gasped at the words and wiped a tear that sat on her cheek. "I had a son. Our son." She took a ragged breath and dug in her purse for her picture book that she carried. Opening it and removing the small 3x5 photo of a young, brown haired boy, she handed it to him. "His name is Marco. He'll be 10 in a few weeks. I've tried to find you all this time so I could tell you. All, he wants for his birthday, is to know his daddy." She stared at the photo in his hand, as he stared at the same little boy with his face, who smiled brightly for the camera. "He's my life, Travis. Mark and I said goodbye a long time ago, and I never--... he's your son, Travis. Please. You don't have to stay, or even come. Just a phone call or a letter or something to let him know you care." Jennifer sniffled as she sat and replaced the photobook to her purse. "I hope she makes you happy. You deserve to be the happiest, after bearing the worst. Goodbye, Travis. I promise I'll leave you alone."

"It's a good name; Marco." Joe said as Jennifer stood up and turned to leave, taking the faded five dollar with her. He looked up at her. "I'll think about it. Have a safe flight home."

Continued.


	9. Epilogue

Jennifer slammed the room door shut behind her as they both entered the room. "You knew where he was all this time and you didn't tell me? You just let me go crazy for ten years??? How could you, Ray?" Her anger flared as she stared at her sister, sitting on the end of the bed with her purse still in her hands.

Sighing, Rachel stared straight ahead, at the mounted mirror on the wall across from her. "He wanted to be left alone, Jenn. He needed time to heal. Dragging him back home would have done more damage than letting go. He has a good life now. A good woman to be with. They're good for each other. Let it be, Jennifer." Finishing her statement, she looked over at her sister, still standing in front of the door. 

"'Let it be'?! After all I've been through, you're going to tell me to just 'let it be'? I gave up everything to find him and now, I have to just shrug my shoulders and go home?" Jennifer shifted her stance but didn't move from the doorway. "Thanks for your compassion for me, Ray."

Rachel stood up and turned to face her sister, upset at the accusation. "Compassion for you?! What about Travis, Jennifer? Where is the compassion for what he was subjected to, growing up? If your friends hadn't have gotten to know him after that ruckus you call a party, you'd still be treating him horribly! And, why did you decide to sleep with him? Just another cruel joke to keep him in his place?" She paused as the verbal slap registered on her sister's face. "You're not the victim here, Jennifer. To you, it was just a 'should've done something' moment. To him, it was a living nightmare. You weren't there to pick up the pieces every time he fell apart just trying to move or communicate. He wouldn't even let Mike close to him until he was positive he wouldn't be taken home, or worse. And I'm supposed to pity you?!" Her voice had raised to show her anger but she never moved to act out just how angry she was. "He grew up constantly walking on eggshells and broken glass, just to please someone who didn't give a fucking damn about him, no matter how hard he tried. You made sure of that. Leave him alone, Jennifer. Let him have the happiness he's always deserved."

Jennifer's jaw dropped at the hurtful words. "Marco is his son, Ray. I cant leave that alone."

"And you think he'll just come running back to you, begging forgiveness? He's not the one that needs to be forgiven, Jen. Right now, I don't blame him for his hatred towards our family. You didn't live life through his eyes. You didn't run to comfort him every time he had a nightmare over what Mark and his friends did to him. Don't you understand? Had Michael not have found him, he'd be dead. Then where would your petty little 'I'm sorry' be? Yes. For ten horrifying years, I kept his whereabouts from you and your cronies. It took five long years for him to at least look up at me and not at his feet." She swallowed and lowered her tone. "Six before he actually smiled at me. Terri adores him and will do everything in her power to protect him. Which is something we never did." Breathing deeply for a moment, she added, "I love my nephew. I love my sister but I love who Travis has become, too. Maybe you should think a little more about who he really is, instead of playing the coiled snake in the grass."

Jennifer's eyes welled with tears that she refused to let fall in front of her sister. instead, she turned, opened the door and walked back out into the afternoon sun, closing the door behind her.

~~~~~~~~~

Scotty stepped off the lift and made his way down the hall, stopping at 4H. He held his hand up to knock but paused to take a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, Scotty gave three quick knocks on the door and waited, listening to the movement inside. As the door opened, Scotty inhaled. "Joe, mind if we have a little chat?"

Joe stared plainly at the detective through the crack in the door, held together by the chainlock. "I don't think there's anything more I can say to her, unless to give her the number for my lawyer. Please, just go away." He had been up and down all morning due to his leg hurting and the restlessness of knowing that Jennifer had found him and was within arm's length. 

"I'm not here to talk about LA. I just uh..., spent some time with.... Jennifer.... and she mentioned a few things about you. And then, yesterday, when Rachel mentioned your mom dying with you in the room." Scotty could tell he was making Joe uncomfortable, and possibly himself, too. Yet, he held up a hand with an old photo in it. "This is her, right? You and your mom."

There was a silence and a stillness before Joe spoke, again. His tone calm and low, his expression dry. "Goodbye, detective. Your Lieutenant will hear from me."

Scotty shook his head. "Wait. I'm a Homicide detective. This is my job. She came to me because she thought I was you. I took her case because she thought you were dead but, here you are, living and breathing above ground. Your mom's case went cold less than six hours after you were in the hands of Child Services. That's pretty damn fast even for California's standards. A lot's changed since 1977, Travis." He could see the register in Joe's face as he used the man's birth name. "I had her file emailed over to me, yesterday. I sat up all night going over it. I know what it's like to lose a loved one and not be able to do anything about it. Jennifer said you always had this photo next to your bed. And, your bear... this is that same bear. isn't it? The one she gave you for your birthday." He shook the photo in his hand for added emphasis as he held it up for Joe to look at. "Don't you want to find out what happened to her?"

"She died a long time ago."

Smirking, Scotty stopped shaking the photo and lowered it. "You'd be surprised what we could dig up." Another silence between them. "Look, I know you have health issues and undoubtedly some nightmares that won't go away. I have some vacation time coming. I'd like to help solve it for you. I promise, we'll get to the bottom of it."

Joe sighed and blinked slowly before closing the door to unlatch the chain and let the detective in. He stepped aside and watched as the detective stepped in and looked around the livingroom. 

"You moving?" Scotty noted the half full boxes and several wall hangings on the floor in single-file stance. However, his eyes stopped wandering when he came across the wheelchair, in the far corner. He swallowed the lump in his throat as Joe closed the door behind him and came around to offer Scotty a seat on the sofa.

Joe scooped up a stack of papers from a section of sofa and motioned for Scotty to sit down. "We bought a house." He stood next to the sofa and watched as Scotty took a seat in the offered spot. "I was making coffee. Would you like some?" He leant on his cane as his hip and back hurt but he tried to play it down in front of the other man.

Scotty hesitantly looked up and nodded. "Sure. Please." His eyes moved down to the cane as Joe turned and made his way over to the kitchen. 

Joe pressed the button on the coffeemaker and moved to sit down across from Scotty, on the edge of the recliner. "In thirty plus years, I've never found anyone who is willing to help me with my mother's death. Why are you really here, detective?"

"Let's just say, family is important." Scotty shifted as the two men stared at each other for a tense moment. "Look, Joe... I spoke with your old social worker and she gave me the names of the people whose house you were at, the night of her death. LAPD sent over the file which had some holes in the stories. I can't guarantee anything but, it might be a good place to start." As Joe reluctantly nodded, he continued. "They also faxed me a copy of your brother's autopsy."

Joe shifted uncomfortably, his face lost all expression as he looked at Scotty at the mention of his twin brother's name. As the coffeemaker beeped it's completion, Joe's attention was turned toward the kitchen and he thought it best to cool down before breaching the rest of the conversation. He stood up and made his way over to the coffee pot and poured two cups of coffee, offering cream or sugar to the detective. When he got a "no" in response, he finished pouring the hot liquid and replaced the decanter to the pad. As he carefully carried the two cups back into the living room, he asked, "why do you want to reopen my brother's death? It was an accident. What else are you going to put me through, Detective?"

Accepting the cup of coffee and carefully taking a sip, Scotty swallowed and lowered the cup before he answered. "The LAPD seems to think the two are connected. I don't think the Cannes were involved but, they seem to have an idea who is."

"Who would that be?" Joe asked, sitting back down on the edge of the recliner. Again, he watched the other man carefully.

After another sip of coffee, Scotty swallowed and cautiously answered, "A man by the name of Mario Rosini. Your mother might have known him and even dated him."

"Dated him? When?" Joe shook his head in confusion.

Scotty bit his lower lip in regret of what he had opened the conversation up to. With a deep breath and a spark of wanting to get it out of the way, he said it flatly. "They think, and I think so, too, that he is your father." He swallowed and waited for Joe to digest the new revelation before continuing. 

Joe nodded as it slowly sank in. "Do they know where he is?"

"Jersey."

Joe didn't reply. Instead, he stared at Scotty with mild contempt of the news. After a long while of uncomfortable silence, he finally mustered the urge to speak. "If they know where he is and can prove that he killed her and Marco, why don't they arrest him? What do they need me for? I wasn't old enough to be counted as a credible witness." Joe's hands started to shake from the conversation and agitation that it dredged up and, instead of spilling his cup of coffee that he had held, he moved to place the cup on a small side table, next to the chair.

"They seem to think that, since you were in the room, that you actually saw it happen and can verify that he was there that night." Scotty took another sip of his coffee and swallowed before adding the rest of the theory. "They think that if they get him to admit to her murder, he might shed some light on what happened to your brother. He's a violent guy, Joe. Son of an Italian mobster who can't let go of his wife and kids."

Shifting, Joe wasn't sure about hearing the rest of the biography on his absent "father." The small clock on the large oak entertainment centre, to the right of him, chimed noon and dragged his attention back to where they were. "I'll think about it. Maybe, when all this from Jennifer dies down. They waited 30 years, I think another month won't hurt." After another minute of silence, he reached for his coffee and took a sip before replacing it to the table and slipping his hands between his lap. 

Scotty sipped his coffee and placed the cup on the small glass topped coffee table in front of him. "That was the second thing I came to see you about. I had a talk with Rachel and Jennifer, before they left, and they seem real genuine in their offer to introduce you to your son." He could tell the mention of their names was not sitting very well with Joe, as he expected as much. However, Joe didn't seem to want to argue about it anymore than he really felt he had to. They both had their say to eachother and he was ready to move on. Scotty was at least willing to extend a helping hand, if Joe needed it.

"I'll think about it."

Scotty nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The car stopped in front of the two-story house. It sat there with the engine running as the two occupants stared up at the tall, white house. They had already been past the Cannes' house and only stopped briefly as the painful memories came rushing back and Joe had asked to leave. Terri had stayed silent whilst Joe decided for himself if he should open the door and step out, or not. She hadn't really wanted to come but felt it was her duty to protect him from any harm that might ensue from being back in his old neighbourhood. "Are you okay? Do you wanna just go?" She asked after a tense moment of frozen silence. 

Joe stared out the passenger window but turned to look at her as she spoke. "I just.... I don't... I don't..." he stumbled over his words and choked on his breath. Jumping as she softly reached over and held his hand, that lie in his lap, he regulated his breathing. 

Terri smiled softly. "Okay. Did you want me to at least drop off the gift for him? I'll just ring the bell and hand it to her. You can lock the doors, if you feel uncomfortable, okay? I'll be right back." She motioned to the brightly wrapped present in the backseat and then reached for the doorhandle to open the driver's side door.

"No." Joe grabbed her hand and halted her. "Since we're here, and bought him the gift, we might as well go inside." He swallowed and felt he couldn't breathe as he opened his own door and started to climb out. he had dreaded coming back to California, let alone being back with in arm's reach of the Cannes, but he had needed closure just as much as the little boy wanted to meet his father. He knew it felt horrible to be disappointed on his birthday and that he would regret the opportunity if he didn't do it now.

"Okay." Terri shut off the engine and opened her door. "Just let me know when you've had enough." She stepped out and shut her door before opening the back passenger door and retrieving the large, rectangular box from the backseat. She paused as she reached for the cane that lie on the floor. Backing out and straightening, she leant over the roof the rented Taurus and asked softly enough for him to hear but not a passerby. "Did you want your cane?"

Joe closed his door and turned to face her. After a glance back at the house and knowing who would be there, he shook his head. "No. No, I'll be alright."

Nodding, Terri shut the door and locked the car, sounding the beep of the alarm to alert the house they had arrived. She slipped the keys into her jeans pocket as she rounded the back end of the car and stepped up onto the curb. Keeping her voice low as before, she looked over at him. "You ready for this?"

Shaking his head, Joe slipped his hand into her's and held it tightly. "No." He took a breath as the front door opened and an older woman stepped out and watched them. Joe's breath caught as he recognised the woman. 

"Ray, he's here!" Becky turned and called back into the house before stepping down off the front step and making her way out to greet them. "Travis! Travis, oh Travis! Oh, my baby boy's come home! I've missed you, so much!" Running as fast as her older legs could carry her, Becky wrapped her arms tightly around shoulders and hugged him for what seemed like forever.

"Hello, Miss Becky. I've missed you too." Joe's voice caught as he hugged the woman back and smiled to himself that she had been there to greet him. When they finally separated, he introduced her to Terri. "This is my fiancee, Theresa; Terri. Terri, this is Becky, my second mother. Her son, Michael was my best friend. My only friend." 

Becky and Terri shared a smile and a hug as they greeted one another. "Just call me Becky, dear. I've been trying for years to get this one to do it but he's stuck on this Miss everything." She laughed. 

Terri giggled and nodded. "I know. I catch him saying it to me and our friends, too. It's good to finally meet you, Becky. He can't stop telling me all about you and your wonderful cooking."

Blushing and laughing at the compliment, Becky leant in and whispered, "he loved my meatloaf and my casserole. I'll give you the recipe." She winked. "but, you have to promise to come back and see us, now." She reached up and grabbed Joe's chin and held a firm gaze on him. "I mean it, young man. Don't you make me chase you down, now. My old legs are too old for running all over creation but I can still take you over my knee." She smirked to let him know she was only joking, which gained a guilty nod and a smile from him.

"Yes, ma'am." He looked over Becky's shoulder at who else came out to see them. He could feel the anxiety rise in his throat as his heart beat faster and harder as his eyes finally fell on Jennifer, standing at the door, watching them. 

Rachel walked up to him and hugged him before nodding and smiling to Terri. "Michael's outback, helping Danny with the grill. There's plenty for everyone. Please stay."

Joe looked over at Terri, who gave him a neutral look. 

"It's up to you. Whatever you feel comfortable with." Terri smiled and held up the gift to give to Rachel.

Looking back to Jennifer, still standing at the door, and joined by her son, Joe looked back to Terri and nodded. Tears weld up and his breathing shallowed as the emotions swarmed him. They stood in the middle of the pavement as Becky hugged him again, glad he was alive and safe.

Becky sighed loudly and pulled back to look at him fully. "Well, you're still skinny. She has a lot of work cut out for her, if she's gonna fatten you up, boy." Reaching up to pull his face forward, she kissed his cheek and hugged him again, feeling overwhelmed that her prayers were finally answered and that she had him there to hold and talk to, instead of visiting his grave in tears. "I want you to tell me all about where you're living and what you're doing now. And then, I want you to tell me why you've kept this secret away from us all these years." They had started walking back up to the house when she stopped him again. "Travis, you know you could have always come to me and told me anything. Baby, I am always on your side. You know that. We'll get through this, together. Okay?" She smiled as he nodded. "Now, Rachel told me you were coming and I baked a nice big chocolate cake for Marco and Michael bought the Spumoni, for you, and we have presents for both you and him, even though, it's his birthday. We thought we would make up for all the ones you didn't get."

Joe glanced up at the small face standing at the door, watching them. "Does he know who I am?"

"He knows the important parts, for right now. He's a good little boy, Travis. Just like his daddy. Come on and meet him." Becky slipped her hand in his as the three of them walked up to the door.

Though, he had only wanted to stay for an hour or so, they ended up staying for half of the night, talking and laughing and reliving the nightmare of what happened, after the children and birthday boy had fallen asleep. He had enjoyed meeting his son and, in return, Marco had loved meeting his dad. After all the fears and nervous jitters had ended, he was glad Terri had talked him into going and, for once, he felt he had a family, again.

End.


End file.
